


The Boy Who Planned

by TomHRichardson



Series: Harry's Fortieth Birthday [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomHRichardson/pseuds/TomHRichardson
Summary: AU. 5th September 1994—four days after Dumbledore has informed Hogwarts students that the school will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year, Harry plays a hunch and sneaks off to Gringotts. The news he hears is beyond bad. As soon as Harry’s temper cools, he begins to plan. Eight weeks later, on the day of the Goblet of Fire drawings, Harry carries out his plan. When the Goblet of Fire spits out Harry’s name, Dumbledore is shocked by what Harry does next.This is an alt-universe H/Hr story that bashes Albus Dumbledore and Ron Weasley.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Amelia Bones
Series: Harry's Fortieth Birthday [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873774
Comments: 142
Kudos: 1061





	1. Take This School and Shove It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you loved Bobmin356’s “The Power of the Press” or LordVishnu’s “When Fate Intervened,” you’ll love (or at least like) this story. When Dumbledore calls Harry’s name as the fourth Triwizard Champion, Harry says no, then backs up his words with action.

**Monday, 31st October, 1994; after dinner  
** **The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Harry Potter had watched as the Goblet of Fire had chosen Viktor Krum, famous Quidditch player, as Champion for Durmstrang; Fleur Delacour, a gorgeous blonde, as Champion for Beauxbatons; and Cedric Diggory, the Seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, as Champion for Hogwarts.

The Great Hall had been silent, except for Dumbledore’s voice announcing Champions, whilst the Goblet had done its work; but now Harry Potter heard the murmurings of students in three different languages—and Dumbledore still was talking.

To Harry’s right, Hermione asked, “Head back to the tower?”

“Not yet,” Harry said. “I have a hunch.”

“ _What?_ ” said Ron, to Harry’s left. “Mate, the show’s ov—”

The Goblet spit out a fourth piece of parchment. Dumbledore stopped talking. _Everyone_ stopped talking.

So everyone in the gigantic room heard Harry’s murmured words: “Here it comes.”

“ _HARRY POTTER!_ ” Dumbledore yelled.

Harry was disappointed, but not shocked, to hear his name called, even though he had not submitted his name to the Goblet. As Harry took a deep, calming breath, he thought, _Execute Emergency Plan Bollocks_.

****

Only two people in the Great Hall knew for sure what had just happened: Barty Crouch, Jr, who had Polyjuiced himself to impersonate Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody; and Albus Dumbledore.

 _The Elder Wand truly is a marvel_ , Dumbledore thought. Through an Elder-Wand Legilimency spell, Dumbledore had learnt about Tom Riddle’s plot and about Barty’s part in it (and about Harry Potter’s unwilling part in the plot); then an Elder-Wand _Confundo_ had Barty convinced that his Polyjuice-disguise had the headmaster completely fooled.

Dumbledore at the moment did not know Tom’s full plot, because Barty at the moment did not know the whole plot. All Barty knew was that his assignment was to trick the Goblet of Fire into picking Harry Potter’s name as a Champion, then to make sure Harry lived through the first two Tasks.

Dumbledore presumed that sometime during the Third Task, Tom planned to kill Harry.

Dumbledore was fine with this. The sooner that Harry Potter died, the sooner that the prophecy would be fulfilled—which meant the sooner that someone other than Harry could try to kill Tom without suffering fatal bad luck.

 _Someone_ other than Harry could try to kill Tom, such as, hypothetically speaking, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

 _“The Defeater of Grindelwald and the Vanquisher of Voldemort”—such a title would have a nice ring to it_ , Dumbledore thought.

****

**Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Great Hall**

“ _Wicked_ , Harry!” said Ron. “How’d you put your name in?”

Hermione looked at the two boys to her left. To Harry’s left, Ron’s face showed the delight of the Weasley twins when they pulled off an “impossible” prank. Whilst Harry’s face was trying to show no expression at all—but not quite succeeding.

Harry turned to Ron and said through gritted teeth, “I _didn’t_ put my name in, Ron.”

Then Harry turned to face the headmaster. “Professor Dumbledore, I didn’t submit my name. I refuse to be a part of this.”

“Harry, my boy,” the headmaster said, his eyes a-twinkle, “Your name is written on this parchment. I’m told your handwriting is distinctive—”

Hermione thought, _“Barely legible,” more like_.

“—and the handwriting that I’m looking at is _quite_ distinctive.”

“Bloody hell, Harry,” Ron murmured, “if you’re going to _cheat_ , be brave enough to admit it. Don’t be a sodding _coward_.”

Harry ignored Ron. “Professor Dumbledore, I repeat: I didn’t submit my name, and I _will not_ take part in this. Besides, have you forgotten that this tournament is for _of-age_ wizards, and I am _only fourteen?_ ”

“Look, kid,” Ludo Bagman said, “the Goblet spitting out your name creates a binding magical contract. Fourteen or forty, doesn’t matter, you’re in it now.”

Harry said, “But I’m _fourteen_. Fourteen-year-olds can’t sign contracts. If I went over to Gringotts and asked to borrow money, the goblins would say, ‘We won’t loan you money, because you’re too young to sign the loan contract.’ ”

“Harry, my boy,” the headmaster said, “you’re keeping the other Champions waiting.” Hermione saw the headmaster give Harry the _I’m so disappointed in you_ look.

“Let me see if I have this straight,” Harry growled. “I don’t put my name in, somebody puts it in for me—but I still must be a Champion in this tournament. I’m too young to sign a written contract and my signing meaning anything, but I’m still stuck in this tournament.”

“Potter,” said Hermione’s least favourite professor, “one hundred points from Gryffindor _and_ detention with me tomorrow night, for lying.”

“ _Lying_ , Snape?” Harry quickly pointed his wand at the ceiling. “I swear on my magic _and my life_ that I did not put my name in the Goblet, I did not ask someone of-age to put my name in for me, and I do not know, and cannot guess, how my name was put in. May Magic judge my words.”

Hermione gasped at Harry risking _everything_ with such an Oath.

Meanwhile, Harry yelled, “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ” A stag-shaped, glowing white form gushed out of Harry’s wand and galloped about, overhead, for a few seconds before fading away.

Harry looked at the headmaster and said calmly, “I refuse to be a Champion, because _I_ didn’t put my name in.”

“But you have to!” said Bagman. “You’re under contract now—”

“Am I?” Harry asked, whilst staring at the headmaster.

“My boy,” Professor Dumbledore replied, looking like the sad bearer of bad news, “there’s nothing I can do.”

Harry snorted. “You’re the headmaster of this school, _and_ the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, _and_ the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, _and_ my magical guardian. Self-appointed, I might add.—”

Hermione blinked, startled. _The headmaster is Harry’s_ self-appointed _magical guardian? What does this mean?_

Harry continued, “So don’t tell me that you _can’t_ help me. It’s not only a _lie_ , but it’s a _stupid_ lie.”

Everyone gasped.

“Another night of detention, Potter!” Professor Snape yelled. “And another hundred points from Gryffindor, for disrespect!”

Mr Bagman said, “Listen, kid, you’re not hearing us. This is a _magical contract_ you’re in. You gotta participate in all three tasks of the Triwizard Tournament, or else you’ll _lose your magic_.”

Harry laughed scornfully. “Have you _thick, gormless pillocks_ forgotten that I’m _Muggle-raised?_ I didn’t know I could do magic till my eleventh birthday!”

Hermione started to get a bad feeling about how this argument would end.

Harry looked at Ron. “What do you say _now_ , Ron?”

Hermione saw that Ron’s ears were apple-red as he replied, “You could’ve told _me_ , your best mate, how to put _my_ name in the Goblet too, but _nooo_. The Boy Who Lived doesn’t want to risk somebody else getting the glory. You’re a _cheater_ , and now you’re a _liar_ too.”

Hermione said, “Ron, how can you say such a thing? Harry gave an _Oath_ , with a _patronus_ right afterwards!”

“Just proves he’s really, really good at lying,” Ron snapped.

“ _Enough_ , Harry!” said the headmaster. “I insist that you join the other Champions.”

Harry put his wand to his throat. “ _Sonorus_.” Then he looked at Mr Bagman. With magically-amplified voice, Harry asked, “When is the First Task, Mr Bagman? What date? What time?”

Both Bagman and the headmaster looked puzzled by Harry seemingly changing the subject, but Hermione felt frightened. _Please, Harry, don’t do what I think you’re about to do_.

Meanwhile, Bagman was saying, “The First Task is on 24th November. Early afternoon sometime.”

Harry took a step forward and to his right, putting himself in front of Hermione, then he turned round to face Hermione. In the process, he turned his back on the headmaster. Harry took Hermione’s hand, as his amplified voice said—

“Hermione, you are the only person in this wand-waving insane asylum whom I’ll miss. Nobody else will I miss; and the _lazy_ , _envious_ , _redhead slob_ I won’t miss _at all_.”

Then Harry looked at Ron. “In case you haven’t figured it out, Weasley, you’re no longer my friend, ‘best’ or otherwise. You remind me of Malfoy too much.”

Then Harry turned back to Hermione, who now was silently weeping. Harry’s amplified voice said, “ _If_ I lose my magic on 24th November, it won’t be a problem. Surely there’s someplace in _Muggle_ Britain where I can live and can go to school.”

Then Harry yelled, “FUCK YOU ALL.”

“Harry, stop this grandstanding,” the headmaster demanded.

Harry leant forward. “Goodbye, Hermione. I love you. _Quietus_.”

Harry then kissed Hermione on the lips; but it was a brief, chaste kiss. Hermione wanted both to cry and to dance.

“Harry, please don’t do this,” Hermione whispered.

Harry patted the pocket of his robes and whispered back, “I’ve your parents’ post address and their telephone number. We won’t lose touch.”

Harry leant back till he was standing straight again. He grabbed his wand with his free hand, _snap_ ped his wand in half, and tossed the two halves over his shoulders.

Then Harry walked out of the Great Hall and out of the castle.

Professor Snape said loudly, “ _Finally_ , we’re rid of the brat.”


	2. Earlier

**Two months earlier: Friday, 2nd September 1994  
** **The day after the start of term  
** **The Hogwarts Quidditch pitch**

Harry was flying his broom over the pitch, but his mind was not on his flying. Nor was Harry feeling any of the boundless joy that usually he felt when he flew on his broom.

Whilst Harry mindlessly flew over the Quidditch pitch, he was thinking hard.

_In two months, Hogwarts will be hosting a Triwizard Tournament for students. The prizes, supposedly, are a thousand galleons plus eternal glory. But in the past, Hermione says, students have died in this tournament; indeed, there have been tournaments in which all three Champions have died._

_None of my year-mates are worried even slightly—after all, the Triwizard Tournament supposedly is for “of age” wizards, whilst we fourth-years are all fourteen years old. But what if my “light-switch luck” gets flipped to “bad luck” again?_

_I’m probably worried over nothing. But if the “impossible” happens and the Goblet of Fire_ does _spit out my name, I need a plan in place beforehand_.

****

**Three days later: Monday, 5th September 1994, in the afternoon**

Harry’s classes were over for the day, and none of the four house Quidditch teams had scheduled a practise this afternoon. So Harry was free to joy-ride on his broom over the Quidditch pitch. Right then, Harry was walking from Hogwarts Castle towards the Quidditch pitch, his broom carried over his shoulder. Neither Hermione nor Ron was with him.

But what Harry was about to do was not quite the same as what it _seemed_ Harry was about to do. Harry was carrying out the beginning of a plan.

As Harry walked from the castle towards the pitch, he felt a momentary tingle. This meant that he had just passed out of the parenthesis-ward, and his name and the current time had just been listed in Dumbledore’s office.

****

As a fourth-year, Harry did not know much about wards. Most of what he had learnt had come from talking to Hermione or from overhearing the Weasley twins.

Harry had picked up that Hogwarts Castle was protected on three sides by a three-quarter cylindrical ward-wall, whose base was shaped like the letter _C_ ; whilst the side of the castle that faced the Quidditch pitch was protected by a quarter-cylinder ward-wall whose base was shaped like a right-parenthesis. There were two feet of overlap between the _C_ and the parenthesis, so that together, the wards formed an unbroken _O_ -base of cylindrical protection around Hogwarts Castle.

But how the _C_ -wall and the parenthesis-wall worked were quite different.

The parenthesis ward-wall did not signal to anyone inside the castle that the castle had friendly visitors; the “door-knocker” function was done only at the front gate, which was part of the _C_ ward-wall. Since only the headmaster could Apparate or Portkey to inside the _C_ -wall and the parenthesis-wall from outside, this meant that magical people without a day-to-day connexion to Hogwarts could enter the castle grounds only by travelling to outside the front gate and waiting for the Keeper of the Keys to open the gate.

Except at the front gate, the _C_ ward-wall did not allow anyone except the headmaster to pass through from outside—it did not matter whether the would-be entrant was a student, a professor, a parent, a Ministry official, or an evil invader; it did not matter whether the would-be entrant tried to enter the castle grounds on foot, on horseback, by automobile, flying on a broomstick, or by Apparition or Portkey. To all would-be entrants, the _C_ ward-wall acted like a fence (and if need be, like an electrified fence); whereas the parenthesis ward-wall allowed professors and students to freely enter the castle grounds when any of these people came from the Quidditch pitch. Whenever a student entered the castle grounds through the parenthesis ward-wall, the student’s name and time of entry were written down on a list in the headmaster’s office.

Either the _C_ ward-wall or the parenthesis ward-wall allowed someone inside the wards to move out through the ward-wall on foot or by broom; but the name of the person leaving and the time of leaving both were recorded on a parchment in the headmaster’s office.

Why did all this wards-stuff matter to Harry this afternoon? Because Harry wanted to visit Gringotts on the sly. Harry was not sure if Dobby could take Harry out of the castle; nor was Harry sure that, even if Dobby could elf- _pop_ Harry out of the castle, that Dumbledore would not know immediately. To keep Harry’s trip to Gringotts secret from the headmaster, it was best if Dobby did his elf- _pop_ ping from the Quidditch pitch.

The way that the parenthesis ward-wall worked meant that Harry could not hide from the headmaster that Harry was going to, and would come from, the Quidditch pitch. All Harry could do was to hide his _purpose_ for going to the Quidditch pitch. Hence the broom now on his shoulder.

Often in the past three years, Harry had done solitary broom-flying over the pitch; nobody at all would think twice about Harry carrying his broom to the pitch today.

****

Once Harry was on the pitch, he mounted his broom, then flew higher and higher off the ground, his path shaped like an upward corkscrew. Harry next zoomed almost straight down, so that any castle onlookers would think he was practising a Wronski Feint; but as soon as the spectator stands hid the castle from Harry’s view, Harry slowed his descent and levelled out his flight. Harry’s intention was not to practise the dangerous Wronski Feint today, but to make any bearded meddler who watched from the castle _believe_ that this was Harry’s purpose here and now.

Harry did this twice more—corkscrew up, then rocket straight down till he was hidden from view from the castle by the spectator stands—then Harry landed. He dismounted from his broom, shrunk the broom, then pocketed it.

“Dobby,” Harry said.

 _Pop_. “The Great Master Harry Potter Sir calls Dobby?”

Harry shook his head. “Dobby, how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me ‘Harry,’ all right? Now, would you take me to Gringotts, please?”

****

**Two hours later, in Gringotts**

Right now, the Boy Who Lived was the boy who was royally cheesed off.

His bad time had started when he had tried to talk to a teller. The teller had demanded Harry’s vault key, which Harry had never owned. Harry had been forced to let his fingertip be sliced by a dagger, followed by the fingertip bleeding onto a parchment. The good news had been that the teller promptly had healed the dagger-cut; the bad news had been that getting one’s finger cut and letting it bleed had _hurt_.

Then the teller had wanted to charge Harry a fifty-galleon penalty for not having his key. To avoid the penalty, Harry had asked Dobby to find the key (whilst Disillusioned) and to return the key to Harry. Ten seconds later, Dobby was standing next to Harry, holding out a bronze Gringotts key.

Molly Weasley, it had turned out, had been shopping in Diagon Alley at the same time Harry was being rebuked by the Gringotts teller; Harry’s key had been in Molly’s pocket till Dobby magically had pickpocketed it.

When Dobby had told Harry this, the teller, overhearing, had written something down on a parchment.

After Harry had shown his key to the teller, Harry had been brought before the Potter account representative. (The Potter family had their own account representative? This had been news to Harry.) The meeting with Axefrenzy, the account representative, had gotten off to a rocky start when Axefrenzy had demanded to know why Harry had “ignored” all owl-posts from Gringotts since his eleventh birthday.

The answer had turned out to be that Harry’s owl-posts were subjected to a mail-redirect charm; Harry _never_ received owl-post except for letters from Hedwig and letters from Hogwarts. Harry had never seen thirteen years of “thanks for saving us from You-Know-Who” fan mail, but likewise all account statements from Gringotts had been diverted away from Harry’s eyes.

Then Axefrenzy had shown Harry what had been in those enquiries and account statements that Harry had never seen—and Harry had wanted to scream and to throw things.

Dumbledore had been taking money from Harry’s trust vault for thirteen years. In addition, Molly had been taking money from Harry’s vault for two years. Of the money that Dumbledore had taken from Harry, every month he had converted two hundred galleons to one thousand pounds and had sent the £1 000 to Vernon Dursley—not one penny of which had been spent for Harry’s care.

But there had been one wee bit of good news: Besides a trust vault, Harry had a Potter family vault. This was good news because, whilst Harry could not access this vault till he was of age, Dumbledore and Molly had not been allowed to access this vault either.

****

**Thirty minutes later**

Harry had come to Gringotts to ask the bank to recommend a solicitor whom Harry could consult with, about the worst-case scenario of Harry becoming the fourth person in the Triwizard Tournament.

It turned out that Harry could not hire a solicitor, because he was not of age. But Gringotts could hire a solicitor, then bring the lawyer to the same room as Harry.

This was how Harry now was speaking with Ted Tonks, a Muggle-born law-wizard who was married to a cousin of Sirius’s, and who was the father of a pink-haired woman who had been a quirky seventh-year Hufflepuff when Harry had been a firstie.

Harry’s first words to Mr Tonks were, “When I came to Gringotts, I thought that the only reason to worry that I might be chosen for the Triwizard Tournament was Murphy’s law. You know what that is, right?”

Mr Tonks smiled crookedly. “Anything that _can_ go wrong _will_ go wrong, at the worst possible moment.”

Harry nodded. “But today I find out that Dumbledore has been stealing from my vault, so now I’m afraid he plans to kill me in the Tournament.”

Mr Tonks held up a hand. “He can’t be ‘stealing’ from your vault if he’s your duly appointed legal guardian.” Mr Tonks turned to Axefrenzy. “What do his parents’ wills say?”

James’ and Lily’s wills were fetched from the Potter family vault. Five minutes later, Harry wanted to scream again and to throw things again. “ _Both_ their wills say I’m not, not, _not_ to be put with the Dursleys! Both wills say that Sirius isn’t the Secret Keeper, Peter Pettigrew is. There’s a list of suitable guardians here, _none_ of whom is Dumbledore—who is listed as a _witness_ to both wills. Bloody fuck!”

Mr Tonks said, “Amelia Bones, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, needs to be told about this. But I recommend waiting till after 31st October, when the Goblet of Fire chooses Champions.”

It took a minute for Harry to calm down; neither Axefrenzy nor Mr Tonks spoke during this time.

When Harry was calm _enough_ , he asked, “Let’s talk about why I came here today. If my name _does_ come out of the Goblet of Fire, what can I do? Can I refuse and not suffer the penalty? Would an Oath work, swearing that I didn’t put my name in?”

Mr Tonks said, “If Professor Dumbledore had integrity, what he’d say after he called _four_ names would be ‘Somebody made a mistake. We need to cancel this drawing and to hold another drawing, using only the three of-age names already drawn.’ But then, if the headmaster had integrity, he wouldn’t be stealing from Mr Potter’s trust vault, would he? So I guess we go to Plan B.”

Plan B, it turned out, involved Harry, should his name be drawn, giving a magical Oath, then pointing out that at age fourteen, he could not legally sign any _written_ contract, so how could he be bound by a _magical_ contract? If Harry was not immediately excused from the tournament, so Mr Tonks advised, then Harry should get as many Ministry of Magic officials as possible, especially Chief Warlock Dumbledore, to state explicitly that Harry still had to take part in a tournament for of-age wizards.

Horrified Harry said, “Why should I try for _that?_ That’s what I _don’t_ want—a mob of adults, all telling me, ‘You have to take part in this thing, and _so what_ if the tournament might kill you?’ ”

Mr Tonks replied, “Here’s how the magical contract works. If your name is drawn, even though it shouldn’t have been drawn, you’re obligated for all three tasks. If you don’t participate in all three tasks, at first it seems that you lose your magic—”

“But that’s not fair!” Harry said.

“True, but I’m telling you a way to mostly fix this. If you don’t show up for the First Task, then Magic starts looking about for who’s at fault. If you’ve already taken an Oath like I advise you to, _then_ —”

Mr Tonks spoke for fifteen seconds more. His words made Harry grin.

****

Mr Tonks, Axefrenzy and Harry talked for another fifteen minutes. Amelia Bones’s name was mentioned, as was Hermione’s name, once or twice. Albus Dumbledore’s name was mentioned many times.

Mr Tonks, Axefrenzy and Harry decided not to make any moves against Dumbledore until after the Goblet of Fire drawing on 31st October. Otherwise, the odds would go up of the headmaster doing something awful to Harry.

By similar logic, it was decided that any Gringotts statements to be sent to Harry between now and 31st October would be duplicated. One copy would be owl-posted—and this copy would be diverted into Dumbledore’s hands, as usual. The other copy of Gringotts’ monthly statements would be handed to Dobby, and Dobby would hand the copy directly to Harry. This way, Harry would be in the know, but Dumbledore would believe he had no reason to worry and so would not read the statements too closely.

****

After Harry finished talking to Axefrenzy and to Mr Tonks, Harry got Dobby to elf- _pop_ him back to the Quidditch pitch. Nobody else was at the pitch now, just as nobody had been there when Harry had been elf- _pop_ ped away.

Harry pulled his shrunken broom out of his pocket, unshrunk the broom, and flew on it for a few minutes. Then Harry dismounted, and carried his broom back to the castle, again over his shoulder.

If anyone in the castle had even noticed that Harry had been gone from the castle for several hours, he or she did not speak a word.

****

**Twenty-six days later  
** **Saturday, 1st October 1994**

Gringotts owl-posted its monthly account statements to vault-holders.

Dumbledore received statements for his family vault, his fourteen personal vaults, the two Hogwarts vaults that he oversaw as headmaster; and (thanks to the mail-redirect charm on owl-post sent to Harry Potter) the account statement for Harry’s trust vault—

Which Dumbledore binned, unread.

In so doing, Dumbledore missed the fact that on 5th September, Harry’s trust vault had paid twenty-five galleons to a solicitor, which was an expense that neither Dumbledore nor Molly had authorised.

****

**Monday, 31st October 1994, at Hogwarts**

That afternoon, Harry was in the Owlery, attaching an envelope to each of Hedwig’s legs.

The first envelope was addressed to Amelia Bones at the DMLE, and inside the envelope was a copy of Harry’s father’s will, his mother’s will, and a note to Amelia Bones that informed Madam Bones that the headmaster had been a naughty boy; also, “Sirius Black is innocent.”

The second letter was to Gringotts. “I live at Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, a Muggle house that Albus Dumbledore has warded. Dumbledore claims that amongst the wards are ‘blood wards that are powered by [my] mother’s sacrifice,’ and that these wards will absolutely stop Voldemort from entering the house. Please give me an unbiased report of what wards are there, how unusual they are, and how effective they are. If William Weasley does the check, make quite sure he can say nothing either to the Weasley family or to Dumbledore (who has close ties to the Weasley family).”

After Harry watched Hedwig fly away, he walked down to the Great Hall for dinner. The Goblet of Fire drawing was about an hour from now.

During dinner, Harry casually asked Hermione, “Would you write down your parents’ post address and their telephone number, please?”

Hermione blinked. “No problem. But why do you want them?”

Harry made his voice sound casual. “So I can write you at home, or can ring you at home, during Christmas hols.”

“Why not ask me in December?”

“There’s lots of things I need to do in December, in and out of class. I might forget then, till too late.”

Ron said, “Why would you want to write to _Hermione_ during Christmas hols? All she’d write about would be _homework_ and _reading books_. Her letters would be boring!”

Hermione glared at Ron. “So you think that Harry would think that letters about chess and the Chudley Cannons would be _more_ interesting than _my_ letters?”

“Sure. _I’d_ read them.”

Harry said, “Hermione? Parents’ address and telephone number, please?”

“ _Honestly_ , Harry,” Hermione replied with a huff. But two minutes later, Harry was handed a scrap of parchment with the requested information on it.

As Harry pocketed the parchment, he turned his head then, to look at Dumbledore at the High Table. Harry thought, _Whatever you do tonight, thief, I’m ready for you. Are you ready for me?_


	3. The Rest of Halloween, 1994

**Monday, 31st October, 1994; after dinner  
** **The Great Hall**

Harry said, “I love you, Hermione.” He gave Hermione a chaste kiss.

“Harry, please don’t do this,” she whispered.

Harry whispered back, “I’ve your parents’ post address and their telephone number. We won’t lose touch.”

Then, still facing Hermione and still with his back to Dumbledore, Harry stood straight. He grabbed his wand with his free hand, _snap_ ped his wand in half, and tossed the two halves over his shoulders.

A half-second later, the wand-halves _clatter_ ed on the floor.

Then Harry walked out of the Great Hall and out of the castle, whilst Hermione was frozen in shock.

Professor Snape said loudly, “ _Finally_ , we’re rid of the brat.”

Hermione ran out of the Great Hall at a full run. She _had to_ catch up with Harry!

****

When Hermione ran outside, it took her a few seconds to get her bearings. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the moon, the stars—and a glowing lightball ahead. That lightball revealed Harry and a house-elf, who both stood ten feet ahead. _Pop_ —Harry’s student trunk appeared by his right hand.

It was cold outside, so Hermione conjured a cloak. Then she spoke the _Lumos_ Charm, to create her own light.

Hermione called out, “ _Harry!_ ” She rushed up to the boy who just had told her he loved her.

Hermione took a deep breath. “Harry, I love you too. Thought you ought to know.”

Harry looked gobsmacked. “Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_. I’ve known since we flew on Buckbeak together.”

Harry rushed forward to seize her shoulders. Green eyes searched brown eyes for a second, then Harry’s lips smashed down against hers.

The kiss was glorious. The kiss was everything that Hermione had ever dreamt of. Roughly two hundred Hogwarts girls were on the other side of those doors, _plus_ Beauxbatons girls, _plus_ Durmstrang girls, yet it was the _bookworm_ whose first kiss—and her second kiss!—were with Harry-amazing-Potter. Hermione wanted to sing.

This kiss, Harry’s and Hermione’s second, was l-o-n-g.

It was the doors to the Entrance Hall opening that broke the kiss. A thirteen-year-old girl with long, blonde hair stepped out. When the girl walked close to the lightball, Hermione saw that the other girl wore Ravenclaw colours.

Hermione did not recognise the girl; by Harry’s puzzled expression, he did not know her, either.

“Hello,” Harry said to the blond Ravenclaw.

“Hello, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, my name is Luna Lovegood,” the blonde said in a dreamy voice. “Though almost everyone calls me ‘Loony,’ ” she said, in the same dreamy voice. “I waited till after you finished your kiss to step outside.” Still speaking with a dreamy voice, she added, “I hope someday that someone kisses _me_ like that.”

“Pleased to meet you, Luna Lovegood,” said Harry. Harry and Luna shook hands.

“I came out here to tell you that I _know_ you didn’t cheat,” Luna said.

“You _know_ this—is it because you’re a Seer?” Harry asked.

Hermione blurted, “You’re a Seer? A _real_ one?”

Luna said, “I _am_ a Seer, yes, but that’s not how I _know_ you didn’t cheat, Harry Potter. I’ve watched you for two years, and you always do the right thing—even when it costs you.”

An awkward silence fell. Hermione broke the silence by asking Harry, “Where will you go now?”

“I can’t tell you,” Harry replied.

She smacked his arm. “You need to figure it out, Harry! It’s already dark, and in a few hours, it’ll be bedtime.”

Harry sighed. “You misunderstand, Hermione. The twins think that Dumbledore reads students’ minds, even though it’s illegal.” Hermione gasped; Luna nodded in agreement. Harry continued, “I don’t dare tell you where I’m going, because otherwise Dumbles will pluck the info from your brain. Nothing good would come if he knew. Most likely he’d drag me back here and _make me_ participate in the First Task—then I’d be obliged for the entire Tournament.”

“You really think the headmaster would do that?” With every fibre of her being, Hermione wanted Harry’s answer to be _No_.

“Yes,” Luna answered.

Nodding, Harry replied, “He makes me live with the Dursleys, who are cruel to me, when I’m not in school. You saw what happened tonight—when my name was drawn and he said, ‘There’s nothing I can do,’ was he _truly_ lacking in options? I’m sure he had several options—but chose to do nothing. I think he has some sort of plan for me—a _deadly_ plan.”

Hermione gasped as a thought hit her. “An hour ago, when you asked me for my parents’ contact information—you were planning this! You already had made a plan to leave school, if you needed to.”

Harry nodded. “I, a fourteen-year-old boy, contingency-planned what I’d do if the Goblet of Fire called my name. Who but me even worries about such a thing? It was a _mad_ plan I hoped I wouldn’t need, a plan I didn’t tell you or Ron about because then I’d sound like a nutter. _Merlin_ , sometimes I hate being right.”

Then Harry looked about. He said angrily, “Speaking of Ron, he isn’t out here, is he? _Nobody_ is out here, besides you two. Four hundred students in Hogwarts and a dozen professors, and _you_ , Hermione, and _you_ , Luna, are the only people who came outside to tell me goodbye.”

Hermione shook her head _hard_. “I don’t _want_ to tell you goodbye.”

Luna said to Hermione, “Go ahead and kiss him a third time. You know you want to.”

Hermione _did_ want to, so she kissed Harry again.

When they broke the kiss, Harry said, “You should go back inside, ’Mione and Luna. It’s too cold for you here.” Harry said this even though Hermione was wearing a conjured cloak whilst he was wearing only what he had worn in the Great Hall. Luna was not wearing extra clothing, but seemed unbothered by the cold.

A minute later, Hermione watched as Harry and Dobby the house-elf walked towards the Quidditch pitch. When they walked over a ward-stone, Harry took Dobby’s hand, then _pop_ —Harry, his school trunk and Dobby all disappeared.

****

**One second later, in the Welsh countryside**

In front of Harry, moonlight and starlight showed a manor house. A corner of the building was a ruin, but one ground-floor window showed a lit candle.

Dobby said, “Dobby has brought Harry Potter Sir just outside the ward-wall to Potter Manor. Dobby thinks that the wards will let the Great Harry Potter walk through, but Dobby cannot pass till the Great Harry Potter claims the house as owner.”

Harry muttered, “ _This_ should be interesting, since I don’t have a wand at the moment.”

Harry raised his wandless right hand and said, “I, Harry James Potter, son of deceased James Charlus Potter and deceased Lily Marie Evans Potter, do claim Potter Manor as owner. So mote it be.”

Had Harry been holding a wand, he would have seen an instant of bright light after Harry had spoken those words. Instead, Harry’s right hand glowed for ten seconds, then the light faded.

 _Pop-p-p-pop_. Four house-elves appeared nearby, all wearing House Potter livery instead of tea towels. The Head Elf, the oldest of the four, told Harry he was named Greyclay.

Harry looked at Dobby and said, “Tonight, at least, I’m going to be okay.”

****

**Meanwhile, in Hogwarts’s Great Hall**

As soon as Hermione (and Luna) stepped into the giant room, Professor Snape roared, “One hundred points from Gryffindor, Granger, for leaving without being dismissed! And detention with me, tomorrow night!”

Luna was standing two feet to Hermione’s left, and surely was just as visible to Professor Snape as Hermione was, yet Professor Snape assigned Luna no punishment at all. Hermione was annoyed.

Hermione glanced about. Ten minutes ago, before Harry’s untimely exit, the students had been gathering their things and preparing to leave the Great Hall. But now all student of all three schools still sat on their benches—and every head was facing Hermione.

Hermione straightened her back as she stared-down Professor Snape. “I challenge both the points-loss and the detention, professor. You are abusing your authority now, sir, just as you did with Harry! _You_ are half the reason he left!”

Snape snapped, “Granger, that’s _another_ —”

Hermione turned her basilisk-stare to the headmaster. “ _Well?_ ”

Even from so far away, Hermione could see Professor Dumbledore’s eyes twinkling. “Miss Granger, Professor Sn—”

“As Deputy Headmistress,” Professor McGonagall snapped, “I _overrule_ the points-loss given to Gryffindor House just now, and the detention given to Miss Granger. I find, Professor Snape, that you had no good reason for what you just did.”

The headmaster said, “Minerva, perhaps you and Severus should discuss this in my—”

“ _He left_ , Albus!” Professor McGonagall yelled. “ ‘The Boy Who Lived’ is now _the boy who left!_ Someone else ensured Harry Potter’s name came out of the Goblet, you didn’t lift a _finger_ to help him, he yelled a quite vulgar obscenity, he _snapped his own wand_ , then he left! Yet you continue the same _dysfunctionality_ that angered him enough to leave!”

“Minerva,” the headmaster said soothingly, “we’ll get Harry back—before the end of the night, I’m sure, after he calms down.”

Then the headmaster turned to look across the Great Hall at Hermione. “Miss Granger, where is Harry going tonight?”

Hermione replied loudly, “Harry didn’t tell me. He thinks you’re fond of mind-reading your students.”

The Great Hall went tomb-quiet, except for Luna saying, “He’s mind-reading me right now. My brain tickles.”

Hermione’s ex-friend Ron Weasley yelled, “Why bring Potter back? _I’m_ glad he’s gone.”

“Mad-Eye” Moody said, “Albus, that boy needs to be brought back here, and it doesn’t matter what _children_ say.”

****

**An hour later, in Potter Manor**

The first thing that the elves did, once Harry was inside the Potter manor house, was to serve him tea. A troubled adolescent Harry Potter might be, but he was also an Englishman.

The second thing that happened in Potter Manor was that Greyclay led Harry to the Ward Ledger, and explained how the Ward Ledger worked. The Ward Ledger contained a list of names, in three categories, of people other than Lord Potter who were allowed to enter Potter Manor.

Only “Relatives” could Portkey to, or could Apparate to, Potter Manor. Only “Friends” and “One-Time Visitors” could enter Potter Manor through the Floo fireplace. If someone’s name was on none of the three lists, the Potter Manor wards treated him or her like an invader.

Harry noticed that Sirius Black was listed as a Relative. Harry crossed out every name on the Friends list except for “Remus Lupin” and “Amelia Bones”; Harry crossed out the name of “Albus Dumbledore” _twice_ , with hard strokes. Then Harry wrote in as Friends, the names of Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom.

(Harry wondered whom Amelia Bones once had dated, that she would be considered a Friend at Potter Manor.)

The third thing that happened at Potter Manor was that Greyclay led Harry to the box that held Potter-family wands. Harry found a good match with the wand of Haroldus Cyrus Potter—a holly wand eleven inches long, with its core being the heartstring of a Hungarian Horntail dragon.

The fourth thing that happened at Potter Manor was that Greyclay and the Potter house-elves gave Harry and Dobby a tour of the manor house. Seven rooms on four floors had suffered both spell-damage and weather-damage and were now uninhabitable, because a corner of the house and a corner of the roof had a hole in them. However, the rest of the manor house was usable. The master bedroom, with its high ceiling, was bigger in every dimension than was Number 4, Privet Drive.

Finally, Greyclay showed Harry the master wardstone—which was _melted_ , as if it had been dipped into a volcano. Potter Manor now had no magical protection beyond what four house-elves could provide, until Harry brought in ward-specialists to replace the master wardstone.

Greyclay told Harry that, now that the four house-elves had Harry’s magic to draw upon, the house-elves could put up an elfin-version Notice-Me-Not Charm and elfin wards on the house. Alas, the elfin protection would last only three days before the four house-elves would be magically exhausted. This meant that before those three days were up, Harry either had to get the goblins to repair and to charge the Potter Manor wards, or Harry had to leave Potter Manor for his own protection.

****

**Meanwhile, at the Ossuary (Bones Manor)**

Amelia Bones was not surprised when a school-owl brought a letter from Amelia’s niece Susan. Amelia correctly predicted that Susan was writing with news about whom the Goblet of Fire had picked as Champion for Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament.

Amelia was quite surprised to unfold the parchment and to find a glass memory-phial that had been sticky-charmed to the parchment. _What event has Susan witnessed that she wants me to watch her memory of the event?_

Amelia smiled when she read that the Champion for Hogwarts was the Seeker for Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team, Cedric Diggory. Susan had made it clear since she had been a Hufflepuff firstie that she fancied the handsome older boy.

But most of Susan’s letter was not about Cedric Diggory, it was about Harry Potter.

At one place in her letter, Susan wrote—

_When Harry’s name was called, I thought, “WHAT? He’s only fourteen, like me! He cheated somehow.” And I heard ’Claws and other ’Puffs saying “He cheated!” like what I was thinking. You don’t want to know what the Snakes were saying—their words would make Aurors blush._

_But Harry didn’t act like a successful cheater after the headmaster called his name. Instead, he got angry. The more he talked to Professor Dumbledore, the angrier he got. When you watch my memory, please notice that when Harry kissed Granger, he also was turning his back on the headmaster._

_THEN, after Harry kissed Granger, he snapped his own wand! What wizard would be mad enough to think of doing this? Just the thought of being Muggle for the rest of my life terrifies me; I’d sooner face an Acromantula (because_ maybe _I’d live through fighting that giant spider, and I’d still have my magic)._

After reading Susan’s letter, Amelia watched Susan’s memory.

Partway through, Amelia wondered if the insistence of Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman that Harry Potter must take part in a Tournament of “of-age” wizards and witches, meant that Harry had been emancipated by Magic. And since Harry already was Heir Potter and the last of his line—Amelia chortled. Did Dumbledore have _any_ idea of what maybe he had unleashed tonight?

After a minute more of pensieve-viewing, Amelia thought, _Harry Potter not only declared that he didn’t put his name in, he swore an Oath both on his magic and his life that he didn’t put his name in. Then he showed he still had magic, not with a run-of-the-mill Lumos Charm, but with a fully corporeal stag patronus? This boy is already an amazing wizard, and Dumbledore angered him enough for Harry to throw away his magic? That long-bearded fool_.

Seconds later, pensieve-Harry’s words started Amelia thinking again: _Dumbledore is Harry’s_ self-appointed _magical guardian? What does Harry mean by this?_

Tomorrow, Amelia decided, when she was back at work in the DMLE, she was going to take a hard look at Albus Dumbledore. His platitudes and his multiple titles would _not_ divert Amelia from getting answers.

****

**Meanwhile, in the headmaster’s office, HSOW &W**

Wrinkly, the head Hogwarts house-elf, informed Dumbledore—with Professor Moody in the room, listening—that Dobby the _free elf_ had quit his job a few hours ago. Wrinkly said “free elf” in the same sneering tone that a human would say _goat-sodomist_. Wrinkly treated Dobby’s quitting as routine, which was why Wrinkly only now was informing Dumbledore about Dobby.

But Dumbledore, unlike Wrinkly, knew of Dobby’s devotion to Harry Potter; and Dumbledore rightly figured out that if Dobby could be located somewhere, there would Harry Potter be found also.

So the Hogwarts house-elves were sent out to search for Dobby. (Hogwarts magic stopped the Hogwarts elves from searching for Harry Potter, because Harry now was not a Hogwarts student, a potential Hogwarts student or the parent of a Hogwarts student).

Alas, by the time the Hogwarts house-elves started their search, Dobby’s trail had grown cold. Also, if truth be told, the Hogwarts house-elves did not try hard to find Dobby, because they really did not want _disgusting_ Dobby back amongst them. In short, the Hogwarts house-elves found neither Dobby nor Harry Potter.

Dumbledore felt panic. He did not notice that “Alastor Moody” looked thoughtful.

****

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were getting ready for bed when Albus Dumbledore walked into their bedroom.

Dumbledore asked the parental Dursleys, “Do you know where Harry Potter is now?”

“No,” Vernon and Petunia replied. “Now leave.”

(Actually, the Dursleys’ reply was much louder than that, and was spoken with many more words than that. Dudley Dursley, who could easily overhear, was surprised that his mother knew such words.)

****

**Meanwhile, in Hogwarts**

Barty Crouch, Jr, whilst in his office in Hogwarts Castle and still Polyjuiced, summoned a Hogwarts house-elf, Betsy. Crouch handed Betsy a folded and wax-sealed sheet of parchment, then Crouch said to the house-elf, “Deliver this to Auror John Dawlish. Tell him that ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody is counting on him to carry out this important _and secret_ assignment.”

“Betsy will do this,” the house-elf replied. _Pop_ —she disappeared.

Now that nobody else could see, Barty Crouch, Jr grinned. John Dawlish had been the Auror who had arrested Crouch, long ago. Since that moment, Crouch had discovered two facts about John Dawlish. The first fact was that the Auror was a completely dislikable wizard; the second fact discovered was that John Dawlish was a moron.

Still, it was slightly possible that if Dawlish met in person with disguised Barty Crouch, Jr, the Auror might realise that something was amiss. This was why Crouch would communicate with Dawlish in writing, not by voice or in person.

Crouch was not sure whether Dawlish would succeed or not at his _Dumbledore wants Harry Potter found!_ assignment. Crouch, in his note, had been forced to admit to Dawlish that Potter probably had disappeared into the Muggle world; and Dawlish, as a proud magical-raised wizard, would know nothing about the Muggle world.

****

**Meanwhile, in the offices of the DMLE**

John Dawlish sighed as he read the note from “Mad-Eye” Moody. Then Dawlish turned his thoughts to how he would find the brat-wizard, Harry Potter.

Dawlish being much less than Hermione-smart, it never occurred to Dawlish that “Mad-Eye” might be wrong about where Harry Potter might be at, and where Potter might _not_ be at. Thus Dawlish did not think to visit Potter Manor or to visit any of the other magical Potter properties.


	4. The Next Day, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both in canon and in many fanfic stories, the government of Magical Britain is so corrupt that there really is no point in having a Department of Magical Law Enforcement. What’s the point of Harry reporting a crime by Lucius Malfoy or Albus Dumbledore, then the DMLE investigating, if the defendant either can schmooze his way into an acquittal (Dumbledore) or can bribe Fudge into pardoning him (Malfoy)?
> 
> And whilst Harry-in-Azkaban stories are not canon, I’ve never seen a review of such a story that says “You’re libeling the Wizengamot. If Harry is innocent of a crime, being convicted and sentenced to Azkaban would _never_ happen!”
> 
> On the other hand, whilst the criminal investigations of the goblins are much narrower in range—the goblins take no notice of murder or treason—the goblins go spare about anything that can be considered _theft_ , and the goblin legal process is incorruptible. Since I want my alternate-universe story to be truly alternate, I choose to write one part of my story differently than how everyone else writes theirs.

**The next morning  
** **At breakfast—Tuesday, 1st November, 1994  
** **In the Great Hall of Hogwarts**

In the middle of the Gryffindor table sat Hermione and the rest of the fourth-year Gryffindors—except for the most famous fourth-year Gryffindor. Harry Potter, contrary to the headmaster’s prediction, was _not_ back in the castle.

 _Somebody_ wanted to crow over this fact. Hermione heard an aristocratic drawl behind her: “Where’s your boyfriend, _mudblood?_ Not _here_ , why is that? Oh, that’s right, he ran off because Potter is a _coward!_ ”

Of all the reactions that Draco Malfoy and his bookends were expecting, it was _not_ for “the brightest witch of her age” to break out in _peals of laughter_.

“God, Malfoy, have you _always_ been this stupid, or did you slip in the shower this morning and hit your head? You never go _anywhere_ without Crabbe and Goyle, they were with you when I met you on the firstie train, and you call _anyone else_ a coward? Your behaviour _screams_ ‘I don’t want to have to fight a Gryffindor one-on-one, because then I might get hurt.’ ”

Draco snarled, “You better watch what you say, _mudblood_. When my father hears about this—”

“—you hope he’ll come here to the castle, then instead of having _two_ people to _hide behind_ , you’ll have _three_. How about you ask your mother to come, too—that’ll make _four!_ ”

The entire Great Hall laughed scornfully, and Hermione heard scattered applause.

As Draco stormed away, Hermione slid off the bench and yelled to his retreating back, “Why is it, Malfoy, when the headmaster called Harry’s name and Harry refused to enter the Tournament, _you_ didn’t speak up and volunteer to take Harry’s place? Was it because you were _too scared?_ ”

Draco clenched his fists then, but he did not turn about or reply.

****

**Minutes later, still at the Gryffindor table**

Ron was yapping something about the Chudley Cannons when Neville said, “Shut up, Ron. Nobody wants to hear from you.”

“What did you say, _Squib?_ ”

“ _You_ called Harry Potter a cheat and a liar. He left because of _you_. You’re not Harry Potter’s ‘best mate’ anymore, and you sure aren’t mine, so be quiet. Also, you eat like a pig.”

Most of the Gryffindors at breakfast clapped. Ron’s ears turned red.

From the Gryffindor sixth-years came these words: “Gryffindor can _forget_ —”

“—winning every game—”

“—during the next four years—”

“—all because of _ickle_ Ronnikins.”

Ginny Weasley, who was sitting amongst the third-years, glared at her youngest brother. “I want _so bad_ to Bat-Bogey Hex you right now, even if it earns me detention.”

Ron glared at the rest of the table. “Potter _did_ cheat. You all saw it.”

Padma Patil, at the Ravenclaw table, said loudly, “What _I_ saw, Weasley, was Harry Potter taking an Oath _on his magic and his life_ that he didn’t cheat. Did you bother to notice that Harry didn’t drop dead right then? Or notice that Harry cast the _Sonorus_ Charm, right afterwards?”

Neville raised his voice, so that he could be heard by the entire Gryffindor table: “Raise your hand if you agree with Ron that Harry Potter is a cheater, a liar and a coward.”

Ron’s hand shot up quickly. Nobody else’s hand went up; and the twins’ hands stayed down.

Neville said, again loudly, “Now raise your hand if you think _someone else_ made Harry’s name come out of the Goblet.”

Ron yanked his hand down, as Neville’s hand and Hermione’s hand both went up. Actually, _every_ Gryffindor’s hand went up _except_ Ron’s, and this included the twins raising their hands.

Hermione said lowly, “Neville, look behind you.”

Neville turned around on his bench. Padma Patil, the blond-haired Ravenclaw, and many other Ravenclaws had their hands up. Amongst the Hufflepuffs with raised hands were Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and Cedric Diggory.

At the Slytherin table, Daphne Greengrass had her hand up too. She snarled, “Not a _word_ , Draco.”

Many Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students had their hands raised. This included both Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour.

Then Neville asked Gryffindors another question, loudly, but this time his voice cracked: “Who here believed Harry Potter, but this morning is _ashamed_ that we didn’t tell him we believed him?” With hunched shoulders, Neville added, “Hermione was brave, and the Ravenclaw girl was brave, but I didn’t tell Harry how I felt, and now I’m _ashamed_ of myself.”

The Gryffindors’ hands that had been raised, seconds before, had dropped during Neville’s last speech. But when Neville raised his hand a second time, there was hesitation amongst the rest of the Gryffindors, then slowly everyone except for Ron and Hermione raised their hands. More than half the Gryffindors with raised hands had red, embarrassed faces.

Behind Neville, a girl’s voice sounded from the Ravenclaw table: “Were you brave last night, Neville Longbottom? I can’t say. But you are brave now.”

****

**An hour and a half later  
** **The office of the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement**

Amelia Bones was unsurprised that she walked into her office and, within minutes, owls tried to deliver letters to her.

Amelia, however, was _quite_ surprised when one of the postal owls was snowy white, and the Muggle envelope thus delivered was from Harry Potter—

—the same Harry Potter who, last night, had taken an Oath, had snapped his own wand then had walked out of Hogwarts.

The envelope of Harry Potter’s letter was thick because, enclosed with his letter, were reduced-size copies of both his father’s and his mother’s will.

For whatever reason, Harry’s letter did not mention his name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. But Harry’s letter mentioned other things, all of which floored Amelia.

Harry’s Muggle aunt was not supposed to be Harry’s Muggle guardian—yet she was. Harry’s aunt and her husband abused Harry—but nobody, Muggle or magical, took notice. Albus Dumbledore was not supposed to be Harry’s magical guardian—yet he was. Amelia herself was third on the list of Harry’s listed guardians (after Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom)—but this was the first time that Amelia had been told this. The Dursleys, Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley all had stolen from Harry’s trust vault.

Sirius Black could not have killed Harry’s parents—because he was Harry’s sworn godfather and because Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper; _but_ Black had been thrown in Azkaban without a trial, and the Chief Warlock (Dumbledore) had never called for a trial.

(Amelia felt shame. All these things in the letter about Sirius Black, Amelia should have discovered thirteen years ago on her own. Amelia should _not_ have needed a fourteen-year-old boy to point these facts out to her.)

What bothered Harry most, he wrote, was that not only was he abused, but his abuse went unnoticed and untreated—

_Before Hogwarts, when I was going to Muggle primary school, I told two teachers about my relatives giving me a concussion, broken bones and scars. Nothing came of it. If any teacher noticed my abuses on her own without me pointing out those abuses, nothing was done._

_Before Hogwarts, I figured that no adult did anything for me because no adult cared. But now I wonder if Dumbledore Obliviated my teachers and/or Compulsion-charmed them._

_Then I came to Hogwarts. Here I learnt that Albus Dumbledore is the cruelest “kindly grandfather” on the planet, Severus Snape is a bitter hermit who is given a blank check to act cruel to children and the other professors are either blind or uncaring._

_Poppy Pomfrey is a genuinely caring person and, as many times as I’ve been in the hospital wing, she must have noticed my malnutrition, wrongly healed bones and the scars on my body—but she has reported none of these things to the DMLE. I suspect that Dumbledore has mind-whammied Madame Pomfrey._

_So I have to ask: Do I have to wait till I’m seventeen, then spend my own money (assuming that Dumbledore and Molly haven’t looted my vaults empty by then) to organise my own medical treatment for my abuses, because until then my abusers can treat me however they want and nothing stops them?_

The first thing that Amelia did after reading Harry’s letter was to go to the Ministry’s Department of Records. She found the wills of James Potter and Lily Potter—but both wills had been sealed by order of the Chief Warlock. And who was Chief Warlock at the time? Albus Dumbledore.

The next thing that Amelia did was to pay a visit to Gringotts. Eventually she was led to the Potter account manager, Axefrenzy. Amelia had an _educational_ conversation with Axefrenzy, especially after Amelia mentioned that the Goblet of Fire had done the impossible and had spit out Harry Potter’s name. Axefrenzy confirmed to Amelia that Harry’s trust vault, number 687, had many withdrawals from it since 1981, exactly _two_ withdrawals being by Harry himself.

Amelia, after talking to Axefrenzy, walked out of Gringotts. As soon as she walked down all of Gringotts’s front steps, she Apparated to the front gate of Hogwarts.

****

**Minutes later**

As Amelia strode through Hogwarts Castle towards the hospital wing, she seemingly took no notice of the portraits that lined the walls of the corridor that she currently was hurrying through. But Amelia was quite aware of those portraits; she knew that these portraits would report her presence in the castle to Dumbledore. Amelia frowned.

When Amelia reached her destination and walked through the doors of the hospital wing, she found Madame Pomfrey talking to two red-faced Slytherin girls. Amelia judged the girls to be thirteen years old. Amelia recalled two conversations of her own with Madame Pomfrey, at about age thirteen, that had made young Amelia blush furiously.

Amelia sat down on the edge of a bed and waited till the blushing girls left. Amelia noted that all the beds in the hospital wing were empty. Over one bed, a brass plaque had been sticky-charmed to the wall: “Official recovery bed of Harry Potter.”

Now that Amelia was alone with Madam Pomfrey, Amelia wasted no time: “During the many times you examined Harry Potter for school-related injuries, did you notice that he had other injuries that had been inflicted outside of school?”

“Yes, of course,” Pomfrey answered.

“Injuries outside of school that were of a type, or were severe enough, to connote _abuse?_ ” Amelia pressed.

The Healer’s face went blank. “Harry Potter is not abused when he is with his Muggle family. Harry Potter is unlucky and has many serious accidents outside of school.”

Amelia thought, _She’s been Imperiused! Or at least compulsioned_. Amelia Stunned the Healer.

Amelia levitated Pomfrey’s unconscious body to the Saint Mungo’s Emergency Floo that was next to Pomfrey’s office. Amelia tapped her wand against the fireplace brick and said, “Saint Mungo’s emergency! Authorisation: Amelia Bones, DMLE.”

The Floo fireplace lit up green, and a man’s face appeared. “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

Amelia replied, “I am Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE. I have here Poppy Pomfrey, whom I have Stunned. Two things. First, I want you to give her an OPCC&I scan. Results of that scan are to go _only_ to me; I invoke Red Privacy.” Which meant that not even the patient herself would be told the results of the scan, without Amelia’s authorisation.

The man who was fire-calling Amelia replied, “You are Amelia Bones of the DMLE, patient is Poppy Pomfrey, OPCC&I scan, Red Privacy. Got it.”

“Also, since Hogwarts has no Healer at the moment, I need you to send a replacement Healer till Poppy Pomfrey returns; I again invoke Red Privacy when the replacement Healer interacts with _all_ Hogwarts staff, including the headmaster.”

Two minutes later, Poppy Pomfrey had been Flooed to Saint Mungo’s, with the help of temporary-replacement Healer Andromeda Tonks. Healer Tonks strongly resembled Bellatrix Lestrange, Amelia noticed.

Even though nobody else was around, Healer Tonks lowered her voice when she asked Amelia, “If Healer Pomfrey _was_ mind-spelled”—mind-spelling a Healer or Auror was _highly_ illegal—“do you have a suspect?”

The hospital-wing doors opened, and Albus Dumbledore walked in. “Ah, Amelia, how _delightful_ to see you again. Where’s Poppy?”

****

**Meanwhile, in Axefrenzy’s office in Gringotts**

Harry and Mr Tonks, the law-wizard, arrived at Axefrenzy’s office at the same time.

The first thing that Harry did was to temporarily ignore Mr Tonks whilst Harry contracted with Axefrenzy to test and to replace the Potter Manor wardstones—there were eight wardstones in all. Harry wanted the goblins to put up new wards and a new Fidelius Charm on Potter Manor, with Harry as Secret Keeper.

Once the repair of Potter Manor’s wardstones was contracted, the regular meeting could begin.

Harry told Mr Tonks that, just as he had feared, his name had come out of the Goblet.

Axefrenzy took a memory of the event and its aftermath, then Axefrenzy played the memory in the goblins’ version of a pensieve.

When the showing of Harry’s memory ended, Mr Tonks said, “I like how you implied that you intended to live in the Muggle world. If you were bluffing, great. If that’s your true intention, also great. Living in the Muggle world will make it harder for Dumbledore to track you down, because magical-raised wizards know _nothing_ about the Muggle world.”

Harry laughed. “True. I could pitch a tent on the other side of Charing Cross Road, and no magical-raised witch or wizard would ever find me.”

Mr Tonks said to Harry, “I suggest you claim your Heir Potter ring now, and try to claim your Lord Potter ring now. Let’s see if the Goblet has emancipated you.”

Axefrenzy fetched both the Heir Potter and the Lord Potter ring-boxes, but held out the Lord Potter box first.

Harry hesitated. “What happens if I try to put the ring on, if I can’t claim the Potter lordship for some reason?”

Mr Tonks answered, “The Lord Potter ring is oversized. When Lord Potter puts the ring on, it shrinks to fit his hand; if Heir Potter puts on the Lord Potter ring, the ring ignores him. Now if _I_ try to put on the Lord Potter ring, something nasty happens.”

Harry slipped the Lord Potter ring onto the third finger of his right hand. The ring shrank till it fit snugly on his finger; Potter-family knowledge flooded Harry’s brain.

“Congratulations, Lord Potter,” Axefrenzy said, as he waved his hand and both ring-boxes disappeared.

Light flashed, and a bronze vault key appeared on the desk, in front of Harry. “The key to the Potter family vault,” Axefrenzy explained. Then the goblin grinned, showing teeth. “Included in the vault is the stock certificate for 75 percent of outstanding shares of Grunnings Drills, Limited.”

Harry was smiling as he looked at the goblin and the law-wizard who were in the room with him. “Axefrenzy, now I have a new order for you: Attack.”

****

**Meanwhile, in the Hogwarts hospital wing**

Albus Dumbledore had just walked into Hogwarts Castle’s hospital wing. He briefly glanced at Healer Tonks, then his gaze went straight to Amelia. With twinkling eyes, he said, “Ah, Amelia, how _delightful_ to see you again. Where’s Poppy?”

“Not here,” Amelia replied in a flat voice. She stared at Dumbledore with an unblinking stare.

Dumbledore said, “Amelia, this is my school. I _insist_ that you tell me where Poppy is, and why she isn’t here.”

“No, I won’t tell you. Red Privacy.”

Dumbledore shot Amelia his _I’m so disappointed in you_ look. “Let’s you and I discuss this in my office.”

“No.”

Amelia said nothing else; instead, she continued to stare-down Dumbledore. A different mind than Amelia’s brushed against her Occlumency shields. The touch was a testing probe, soft enough that most Occlumens would not even feel it.

 _You pompous fool_ , Amelia thought, and let Dumbledore pick up the thought from her mind. As Dumbledore’s eyes widened, Amelia grabbed the headmaster’s arm, then she slapped the small badger that was pinned to her robes.

“Tardis!” Amelia said, and both she and Dumbledore Portkeyed out of Hogwarts Castle.

An instant later, Amelia and Dumbledore arrived in a heavily runed magic-suppression room at the DMLE. An alarm sounded, just outside the room.

Amelia heard heavy footsteps run up to the only door in or out of the room, and this door was thrown open. Just outside the doorway stood two Aurors, who did not step through the doorway.

One Auror pointed his blue wand at Dumbledore. “ _Accio_ suspect’s wands!” Two wands flew away from Dumbledore.

“ _NOOO!_ ” the old man yelled.

Meanwhile, the other Auror had his own blue wand pointing at Dumbledore. “ _Accio_ suspect’s Portkeys!” Three objects—one of which was hidden in Dumbledore’s beard—detached themselves from the old man and flew towards the second Auror.

Amelia turned towards shocked-looking Dumbledore. In a flat voice, Amelia said, “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are under arrest for attempting Legilimency on an Auror. You will be kept in a holding cell whilst the DMLE investigates other crimes you might have committed. As I judge you to be a flight risk, you shall be denied visitors other than your barrister. Anything you say from this moment onwards can be used against you if you are put on trial.”

****

**At Potter Manor**

Harry summoned all four Potter house-elves, then handed the Potter family-vault key to Greyclay. Harry told them, “Repair the house to its former glory. Make the house like how it was before the attack. Do your repairs well, and spare no expense.”

****

**A half-hour later**

Gringotts sent Albus Dumbledore a letter that said that both of the Hogwarts vaults he controlled, the Dumbledore family vault, and all fourteen of his personal vaults, were “frozen due to audit” because of “irregularities.” The letter listed the numbers of the seventeen vaults affected.

Interestingly, Vault 687 was _not_ mentioned as frozen; Dumbledore theoretically would be free to make withdrawals from Harry’s trust vault if Dumbledore somehow could get hold of the key.

****

**A half-hour later**

Cornelius Fudge loved three things above all: apple pie with whipped cream on top, bribes of thousands of galleons, and being owed favours. Dumbledore owing Fudge a huge favour was too juicy an opportunity to pass up.

Fudge ordered Dumbledore released from his holding cell, in return for the headmaster making a pledge (not an Unbreakable Vow, please note, or even an Oath) that Dumbledore would appear in court if he was ordered to stand trial.

Amelia Bones did not mention to her boss that Dumbledore already had been heavily questioned using Veritaserum. The transcript made for interesting reading.

****

As soon as Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts, a Gringotts owl delivered to him the letter that told him that all of his vaults had been frozen. However, the goblin who had written the letter seemed unaware that Dumbledore had access to Harry’s trust vault.

Immediately Dumbledore Floo-called Molly, to tell her that he needed Harry’s vault-key _now_.

Molly told Dumbledore that she had lost the key somewhere in Diagon Alley, three weeks earlier.

Dumbledore decided to Apparate to Gringotts and to try and beguile a teller into making him a duplicate vault-687 key. Even though what he would be asking was against Gringotts rules, Dumbledore took it for granted that he soon would have the key in hand, because Dumbledore was a master of verbal tricks.

****

**Minutes later, at a teller window in Gringotts**

The teller snarled, “State your business, wizard.”

Dumbledore smiled at him and said, “I need to get into Vault 687, but I don’t have the key. I need a duplicate key made.”

“Give me your finger for the blood-test ritual.”

Dumbledore obeyed, but the teller, after making Dumbledore’s finger bleed, forgot to heal the wound. Dumbledore was forced to heal the wound himself, using wandless magic.

The teller said, “The only account-holders for Vault 687 are James Potter, deceased; Lily Potter, deceased; and Harry Potter, age fourteen. You are not they, _wizard Dumbledore_.”

“I’m Harry’s magical guardian, and have been for thirteen years. Check the Special Instructions for Vault 687.”

“Checking the Special Instructions takes time, and time is money. Do you have any valid parchmentwork to document your claim?”

“No, but—”

“Something with James Potter’s signature or Lily Potter’s signature on it?”

“No, but—”

“I cannot agree to your request. Gringotts policy—”

“ _Merlin!_ ” Dumbledore snapped. “Just check the bloody Special Instructions! Is that too much to ask?”

“Very well, I shall check for any Special Instructions for Vault 687.”

The teller then looked over to his left, at something that Dumbledore was blocked from reading.

Then the teller yelled, “ _Megkrob pu!_ ”

Within seconds, other goblins dragged Dumbledore away from the teller window. As these other goblins were wearing armour and were holding weapons made of sharp, goblin-made steel, Dumbledore did not try to fight them off.

However, Dumbledore _did_ try, even before he heard the goblins’ charges, to demand that he be transferred to DMLE custody. Dumbledore was laughed at—and scornful goblin laughter is scary to hear.

****

**Ten minutes later**

Molly Weasley was arrested at the Burrow by four fierce-looking goblins, and charged with theft from Vault 687. She had received no warning before her arrest, either from Dumbledore or from her son Bill.

****

**Five minutes later  
** **In the Transfiguration classroom in Hogwarts**

Minerva McGonagall was teaching fifth-year Transfiguration to Ravenclaws and Slytherins when she _felt_ the Hogwarts wards shift to her control.

Minerva knew what this meant: that Albus either had just died or had just been sentenced to prison.

Minerva held her finger up to mean _Wait_ , then said to the students, “I must step out of the classroom for a moment. Please sit quietly.”

Once Minerva had shut the classroom door and was standing in the corridor, she summoned Wrinkly, the head Hogwarts house-elf. Minerva told Wrinkly, “Task the house-elves, portraits and ghosts to find Professor Dumbledore, if he’s in the castle; or to find out where he might have gone, if he isn’t in the castle.”

About a half-hour later, after the students had left the classroom, Nearly Headless Nick phased through the classroom wall. He bowed to Minerva and said, “Professor McGonagall, the portraits tell me that Professor Dumbledore received a letter from Gringotts this morning. He read the letter, jammed it into the pocket of his robes, then Apparated away.”

Minerva thanked Nick; he left. Minerva then realised that she needed more information, which only Gringotts knew.

For the first time since Minerva had been a brash seventh-year student, she tried to Apparate out of Hogwarts. To her utter shock, she succeeded, finding herself on the front steps of Gringotts.

Minutes later, within Gringotts, the Hogwarts account manager told Minerva that the school’s two Gringotts vaults had been frozen yesterday; but now that Minerva was Headmistress, those two vaults would be released.

“By the way,” Minerva was told, “one of the things that Prisoner Dumbledore did to anger us was that he paid the ghost, Cuthbert Binns, a salary, but then Prisoner Dumbledore diverted all of that salary to his own vaults.”

****

**The Great Hall of Hogwarts, at lunchtime**

When Hermione walked into the Great Hall, nobody was sitting either in Professor McGonagall’s high-backed chair at the High Table, or in the golden throne where only Professor Dumbledore dared sit. Hermione thought nothing of both chairs being empty.

Then Professor McGonagall walked in. Hermione thought nothing of the fact that the Scots woman had arrived but Dumbledore had not—for 99 percent of the meals that Hermione had eaten here during the last three years, all of the students and all of the other professors already had been seated when Professor Dumbledore finally had graced the Great Hall with his presence.

But this time, Professor McGonagall did not walk to her old chair; instead, she walked to the golden throne next to her chair. McGonagall transfigured the golden throne to be a duplicate of the deputy headmistress’s chair; except that the transfigured throne had a white _H_ at the top of the chair-back.

By now students had noticed Professor McGonagall’s magicking, and Hermione heard murmuring throughout the room.

Professor McGonagall sat down then—not in the deputy headmistress’s chair, but in the transfigured golden throne.

Professor Snape looked worried.

Two minutes later, Professor McGonagall stood up. “Before we eat, I have an announcement to make. Professor Dumbledore was caught stealing by the goblins, and has been sentenced to seventy-five years in the goblin mines.” Translation: Dumbledore has been sentenced to death by exhaustion.

Professor McGonagall continued: “I am now acting headmaster.”

Professor Snape stood up and said, “I resign as Potions teacher and Head of Slytherin, effective immediately.”

Professor Snape had not taken two steps towards the doors that led to the dungeons, before cheers sounded that were loud enough to make Hermione’s ears ring.

****

**Ten minutes later, still in the Great Hall**

Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating, when she heard the normal sounds of many children talking behind her, quiet down. At the same time, Lavender gasped, “Hermione, _look!_ ”

Hermione turned about, and saw that owls were winging through the Great Hall. One owl, snowy white, was headed directly towards Hermione.

By the time that Hermione had thanked Hedwig with bacon, and had opened the flap on the Muggle envelope that Harry’s letter was in, the Great Hall was silent.

 _Everyone_ —students and professors, first-years and seventh-years, Gryffindors and Slytherins, British students and foreign students—was looking at Hermione, waiting to hear what Harry’s letter said. Even Draco was attentive (though he also was scowling).

The silence was so complete that Hermione did not need a _Sonorus_ in order to read Harry’s letter aloud and be heard—

_First things first. I’m someplace warm, dry and safe, but I won’t tell you where. What you don’t know, you can’t tell when someone with five names does a sneaky mind-read of you. One place I’m_ not _is with my awful Muggle relatives—I’ll sleep under the stars during a Scottish winter before I go back to_ those people _again._

 _Right now, I_ think _I still have my magic. But this is hard to tell when I don’t have my holly-and-phoenix-feather wand anymore. Hedwig (my owl) and Dobby (my house-elf) are with me for now, so I_ could _go to Gringotts and fetch some galleons, then I_ could _go to Ollivander’s wand shop and buy a replacement wand, but I haven’t done these things. Why bother, when I might become a Muggle on the 24th? But listen, even if I’m still magical on the day after the First Task, I still might not bother buying a replacement wand. I’m really soured on the magical world, Hermione._

_Tell Luna Lovegood “Thank you” for coming outside to tell me that she believed me. She’s not in our House, she didn’t have to do or to say anything, but she did, and it means a lot to me._

_Did you know that it was harder for me to tell you “I love you” in the Great Hall, and to kiss you in the Great Hall, than for me to face the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets? I fought the basilisk because nobody else could, but yesterday I was_ so scared _that you would tell me, “Let’s just be friends.” But you let me tell you I love you, and you let me kiss you and now you’re my girlfriend. This is_ bloody brilliant!

_I love you, Hermione. I’ve loved you for over a year, since you were petrified, and I’ll love you for eternity._

Throughout the Great Hall, Hermione heard girls sigh. Professor McGonagall wore a soft smile.

Ginny Weasley muttered, “Worthless bint, he’s _mine!_ ”

The Beauxbatons Champion spoke into the otherwise-silence: “Ze leetle boy keeled a _baseeleesk?_ ”


	5. The Next Day, Part 2

**Tuesday, 1st November 1994, at lunchtime  
** **Potter Manor**

Harry was eating lunch when Greyclay, the head elf of Potter Manor, handed Harry a letter that had just come from Gringotts.

_Dear Lord Potter,_

_This letter is to inform you of the results of Gringotts investigations of theft against your property, both inside and outside of your vaults._

_Over the years, Gringotts has developed 994 ways to detect theft and to identify thieves; so Gringotts is confident that everything that was stolen from you has been recovered, or has been replaced with valuables of equal or greater value._

_Gringotts punishes theft in two ways. The first is by a mandatory sentence of hard labour, either in our gold mine or in our iron mine. No matter how petty the theft, the minimum sentence is six months in a mine. The second way that Gringotts punishes theft is by stealing from the thief; every knut that was stolen from the victim is given back to the victim, plus ten percent of the stolen value is taken from the thief’s vault or property and is transferred to the victim. When the thief does not have enough coinage to perform 110-percent restitution to the victim, Gringotts transfers property or valuables that belong to the thief, to the victim. Gringotts’ first choice when choosing valuables to transfer is “Which valuable object would cause the thief the most misery if he lost this object?” If transferring all the thief’s coinage and all of the thief’s valuables to the victim still does not provide enough value for 110-percent restitution, the thief is executed with a heavy steel axe._

  
_Regarding Marion Guinevere Weasley née Prewett—_

_The Harry Potter stolen property recovered: not applicable._

_G1 260 stolen x 110% = G1 386 to be recovered._

_G874 was recovered from the personal vault of Marion Guinevere Weasley née Prewett and was transferred to the Potter family vault. The MGW personal vault was closed._

_G512 was recovered from the Weasley family vault and was transferred to the Potter family vault._

_The shortfall: not applicable._

_The Marion Weasley valuables transferred to the Potter family vault: not applicable._

_The shortfall after the transfer of valuables: none. The thief was not executed as punishment._

_The sentence: five years of hard labour in the iron mine._

  
_Regarding Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore—_

_The Harry Potter stolen property recovered: the Potter family grimoire, seventeen other books, and the talking portrait of James Potter and Lily Potter. The recovered stolen property was placed in the Potter family vault. For the Potter family grimoire, we reactivated the allow-Potters-only espionage curse._

_G646 836 stolen x 110% = G711 520 to be recovered._

_G443 923 was recovered from fourteen personal vaults of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and was transferred to the Potter family vault. Fourteen APWBD personal vaults were closed._

_G47 was recovered from the Dumbledore family vault and was transferred to the Potter family vault._

_The shortfall: G267 550_

_The Albus Dumbledore valuables transferred to the Potter family vault: (1) the deed to the nonmagical holiday house in San José Obrero, Ibiza, Spain. Four bedrooms, 1 bathroom. The appraised value: G163 000 (2) the deed to the Dumbledore ancestral house near Launceston, Cornwall, England, UK. Five bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, potions lab, duelling room, blacksmith forge, house-elf (named Beekeeper). The appraised value: G214 000_

_NOTE: The selection of valuables to be transferred from the thief to the theft-victim is at the discretion of Gringotts. Gringotts gives neither the thief nor the theft-victim a voice about which valuables the thief forfeits to the theft-victim. The theft-victim is not required to repay the thief for the surplus value of the transferred valuables._

_The shortfall after the transfer of valuables: none. The thief was not executed as punishment._

_The sentence: seventy-five years of hard labour in the iron mine._

  
_Regards,_

_Axefrenzy, Potter account manager_

Harry grinned viciously. Not often did he catch a break, but this was one of those times. Not only had all the property and most of the money that Dumbledore had stolen from him been _un_ stolen, but Harry had come out ahead on the deal.

Harry felt a desire then: to not only own _on paper_ , these two houses that formerly belonged to the headmaster, but to actually _live_ in these houses—if only for a few minutes.

“Dobby,” Harry called. _Pop_ —Dobby appeared, grinning.

“Beekeeper,” Harry called.

 _Pop_. A house-elf who was wearing a tea towel appeared. Beekeeper looked at Harry in confusion. “Young master is not a Dumbledore, you are not family to Dumbledore, but you are master to Beekeeper.”

Dobby said excitedly to Beekeeper, “Beekeeper’s master is Harry Potter. No master can be better for any elf than is Harry Potter!”

Harry handed the letter to his new house-elf. “Beekeeper, your former master stole from me, but the goblins caught him at it. Now the Dumbledore House doesn’t belong to any Dumbledore anymore, it belongs to me.”

****

**Seconds later, on Ibiza Island in the Mediterranean**

Harry had ordered Beekeeper to bring both himself and Dobby to the holiday house, so that in the future, Dobby would know the way to San José Obrero.

Now Harry told the two house-elves, Dobby and Beekeeper, to stay inside the holiday house, whilst he walked outside and looked about.

The first thing that Harry discovered after he walked out the front door was that there was a hotel across the street from his house. The second thing he discovered was that the street was lined with palm trees. When Harry turned about and looked at his house from the street, he discovered that the holiday house was completely covered with white-painted plaster, except for the tile roof, and the house had many big windows.

Harry figured out that if he walked towards where he heard seagulls, he could find the beach. Five minutes after Harry walked out his front door, his trainers were standing in wet, slanted sand as he watched waves roll in, just ahead.

Harry found the sound of the approaching waves to be soothing.

Harry was grinning. The Dursleys had several times visited Brighton but had never taken Harry with them; Harry had never seen the Atlantic Ocean or the English Channel. But now Harry was less than five feet away from the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, and he could come back here anytime he wanted!

Harry belatedly noticed the temperature. He had been outside for minutes now, wearing nothing over a long-sleeved shirt. Whilst his face and hands were a bit cool, the rest of his body was comfortable—which was amazing for early November! Had Harry been standing outside for several minutes in _Scotland_ in daytime in November, he would have needed a heavy jumper, or even a coat. Harry smirked as he thought, _Thank you, Dumbledore, for stealing from me_.

****

**Meanwhile, in Hogwarts SOW &W**

Hermione was summoned from Charms class to the headmistress’s office. Hermione guessed that the summons had something to do with Harry.

Sure enough, waiting for Hermione was not only the headmistress, but also Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

To the Director’s right, a roll of parchment was floating in midair, with the end of the parchment stretched out flat. Above the stretched-out parchment, a quill hovered, ready to write.

Pleasantries were exchanged, then Madam Bones asked Hermione, “Do you know where Mr Potter is?”

Hermione replied, “Quote, ‘someplace warm, dry and safe,’ unquote. I’m citing his last letter to me.”

Madam Bones said in a calm voice, “That isn’t helpful. I ask again: do you know where Mr Potter is?”

Hermione replied, “I’m willing to swear that I don’t know where Harry is. But if I _did_ know where, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Professor McGonagall blurted, “Miss Granger!”

Hermione said, “Madam Bones, I’m sorry if this offends you. But Voldemort has tried to kill Harry three times already, and I think what happened last night was the start of Attempt Number Four. But last night, Harry did something that Voldemort didn’t plan for, so Harry’s safe—for now. But if I told you ‘Here’s where Harry is’ and you chatted it about the DMLE, then I think Harry would be dead by sundown.” Which in Scotland in early November, wasn’t too long from now.

Then Hermione stared into the eyes of Madam Bones. “Also, ma’am, you’re Minister Fudge’s employee. The same Minister Fudge who ordered Sirius Black _Kissed_ without ever bothering to find out if Sirius was _guilty_ of anything.”

Madam Bones said, “Believe me that I shall work my hardest to prevent Sirius Black being Kissed without a trial. But let’s go back to something you said earlier: You talk about You-Know-Who as if he were alive.”

“He _is_ alive. Didn’t Susan tell you? He was possessing Professor Quirrell in first year, till Harry accidentally killed him. In second year, a ghost of Voldemort possessed a girl, Ginny Weasley, until Harry got rid of the ghost. But Riddle doesn’t stay dead—Harry occasionally gets a peek into Voldemort’s thoughts for a few seconds.”

Madam Bones shot Hermione a confused look. “ Hold on, you were talking about You-Know-Who, but who is this ‘Riddle’? A Muggle-born?”

Hermione said, “Voldemort’s real name is Riddle. His father was a _nonmagical_ aristocrat.”

Professor McGonagall gasped. “You-Know-Who is _Tom Marvolo Riddle?_ He was _Head Boy_ , a few years ahead of me!”

Hermione asked the headmistress, “How is it that you don’t know this? Did the headmaster at least mention that Riddle infested his diary with a _horcrux?_ Harry told me he told Professor Dumbledore _everything_.” Hermione turned back to face Madam Bones. “Again I ask, why didn’t Susan tell you about Voldemort and Professor Quirrell?”

Professor McGonagall answered, “Miss Bones didn’t know about You-Know-Who possessing Professor Quirrell because Albus didn’t tell the students. _I_ didn’t know about You-Know-Who being Tom Marvolo Riddle because Albus didn’t tell _me_.”

Madam Bones asked Hermione, “About what happened last night—did Harry truly mean it, that he’d sacrifice his magic rather than compete? Could he be bluffing?”

Hermione glared at the older witch. “You know I’m _Muggle-born_ , right? Last night after Harry’s name was drawn, I wanted to _scream_ when all these people kept saying, ‘Harry, you must be in the Tournament or you’ll lose your magic.’ _Honestly_ , that’s their _best argument?_ Being put at risk of death, not _once_ but _three times_ , is preferable to never wand-waving again, really? _Deal with it_ —if Harry has to give up this world forever, he won’t shed a tear. He never even heard of magic till his eleventh birthday—he’d have _no problem_ with walking away from the magical world.”

Professor McGonagall looked shocked. Madam Bones’ face was unreadable.

Professor McGonagall asked, “Could he live in the Muggle world? Could he survive?”

Hermione said, “So long as he isn’t forced to live with the _Dursleys_ , yes. If he could be legally emancipated in the Muggle world, even better. Harry surviving amongst the Muggles, if he’s a legal adult, is a sure bet.”

Madam Bones said, “Especially since the money that two people stole from his vaults, has been put back.”

Professor McGonagall looked sick. “It was _Harry_ from whom Albus stole money?” She then muttered a Scots curse.

Madam Bones sighed. “Let’s hope that things aren’t so bad and Mr Potter doesn’t lose his magic.”

Hermione shook her head. “It might make no difference. Even if Harry still has magic after he forfeits the First Task, he wrote in his last letter, ‘I still might not bother buying a replacement wand. I’m really soured on the magical world, Hermione.’ ”

“Merlin,” Professor McGonagall sighed.

Madam Bones looked at Hermione. “You mentioned Sirius Black. What do you know about his alleged crimes?”

Hermione’s questioning lasted for several more minutes, and covered several more topics. When Hermione was telling Director Bones what she knew about Harry’s abuse by the Dursleys, Hermione noticed that Professor McGonagall’s face was pale.

****

**Meanwhile, Harry’s new-houses exploration continues**

From the holiday house in San José Obrero on Ibiza Island, Beekeeper _pop_ ped Harry and Dobby back to England, just outside the ward-wall for Dumbledore House in Cornwall. Harry, whilst using the wand of Haroldus Cyrus Potter, claimed ownership of Dumbledore House.

Compared to Potter Manor or (what Harry had heard about) Malfoy Manor, Dumbledore House was smaller, and definitely unimpressive. On the other hand, compared to Number 4, Privet Drive, Dumbledore House was big—Harry knew that Vernon and Petunia would be sick with envy if they somehow could see this house.

A minute later, Harry walked in the front door, with Dobby and Beekeeper following. Just inside the front door was a square inlay in the floor of the foyer. In the upper-right corner of the inlay was a beehive, with bees flying about; in the middle of the square was a giant _D_.

“I greet you,” said a voice to Harry. “Who are you?”

On the far side of the foyer, facing the front door, was a wall; on the wall was a portrait of a man who was wearing old-styled robes and a powdered wig. The portrait-man’s right hand was holding a wand, which was pointed straight up.

The portrait-man continued, “You’ve the magic of Ownership about you, but I’ve never seen you before. _Tsk_ , forgive me, I am Polonius Dumbledore, the House founder. Are you a Muggle-born? You’re dressed like one.”

Harry said, “Oh boy, _this_ is awkward.” Harry pulled the Gringotts letter from his pocket. “Founder Polonius Dumbledore, I am Lord Harry James Potter. So far as I know, I am not related to _any_ Dumbledores, unless Albus is my seventeenth cousin or something. This letter explains what happened.”

Harry then read aloud the relevant part of the Gringotts letter.

Polonius choked. “Albus lost _Dumbledore House?_ That nancy-boy, long-bearded _imbecile!_ ”

“Also a thief, which is why I now own your house.”

Polonius said mournfully, “This is now the end of the Dumbledore line. Neither Albus nor Aberforth have children, Ariana is dead, and now there is not even an ancestral house in the family.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“What are your plans for this house?”

“Truthfully, Founder Polonius, I haven’t made any plans. Well, I have no quarrel with _Aberforth_ Dumbledore, so I’m about to have Beekeeper gather the Dumbledore family grimoire and the family portraits, and turn them over to Aberforth. Erm, sir, would you like to go to Aberforth Dumbledore along with the other portraits, or stay here in your house, even though it’s not _your_ house anymore?”

Portrait-Polonius stared at Harry, looking surprised, then he said, “I ask to stay here if I may, young Lord Potter. Also, when you have Beekeeper stripping this house to give family things to Aberforth, may I ask you to give Aberforth the box of Dumbledore-family wands?”

“Sure, I can do that.”

(Harry was even more generous than what Polonius Dumbledore asked for. Harry told Beekeeper to tell Aberforth that for the next twenty-four hours, Aberforth could ask for anything out of Dumbledore House, and Harry would not dispute it.)

Whilst Beekeeper was elf- _pop_ ping portraits off the walls of Dumbledore House, Harry found the Dumbledore House Ward Ledger. In the Ward Ledger, Harry crossed out the name of Aberforth Dumbledore with one stroke, crossed out “Albus Dumbledore” with three _thick_ strokes, then wrote-in “Sirius Black” under “Relatives.”

The Dumbledore Ward Ledger had an extra category that the Potter Ward Ledger did not have. Besides “Relatives,” “Friends,” and “One-Time Visitors,” the Dumbledore Ward Ledger also had a category for “House-Elves.” Beekeeper’s name already was written there; Harry added Dobby’s and Greyclay’s names to the Ward Ledger. When Harry asked Polonius about the extra “House-Elf” category, Polonius answered that Dumbledore House had anti-house-elf wards, whilst Potter Manor probably did not.

****

Whilst exploring Dumbledore House, Harry soon found a bedroom that he _quickly_ figured out belonged to Albus Dumbledore. Harry saw three bags of sherbet lemons visible, also a big bowl that was filled with many Muggle chocolate candies. The bedroom’s walls were painted yellow and teal, above a Chudley Cannons-orange carpet. When Harry dared to open the doors of the wardrobe, the colours of clothing that he saw inside, made his eyeballs hurt.

Albus Dumbledore’s bedroom reeked of a strange smell that Harry did not like _at all_.

****

**Ten minutes later, still at Dumbledore House**

Beekeeper _pop_ ped next to Harry; the house-elf was holding an enormous, gaudily framed portrait of Albus Dumbledore. The former headmaster was pictured in lavender robes and was sitting on his golden throne; Portrait-Albus looked asleep.

Beekeeper said, “Former master Aberforth does not want portrait of bad brother. Former master Aberforth says give back bad-brother portrait to Master Harry!”

Harry chuckled as he pulled out Haroldus Potter’s wand. Seconds later, Harry had vanished Albus’s portrait.

****

**Meanwhile in the headmistress’s office, HSOW &W**

Something in a drawer of the headmistress’s desk felt evil.

Not _greatly_ evil, like an altar that was used only for human sacrifices, but _weakly_ evil. Something in the headmaster’s/headmistress’s desk had a tinge of evil, but McGonagall felt it.

McGonagall opened each desk drawer, one at a time, and brought her right hand close to, but not touching, every object in every drawer. She soon found the weakly-evil thing—

A diary, with “T M Riddle” stamped on the front in gold. The front cover, and the edges of the diary’s pages, all were covered with dried black ink. The front cover had a hole in it; the cover had been stabbed _hard_ with something _sharp_.

McGonagall summoned a Hogwarts house-elf. The headmistress told the elf to don dragonhide gloves, for safety’s sake, then to deliver Riddle’s diary to the Department of Mysteries. The house-elf, Toffee, immediately did this.

McGonagall scowled. _What was Albus_ thinking _, keeping a horcrux-vessel of You-Know-Who’s in a school full of children?_


	6. The Next Day, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I explain about divorce declarations in “All was Definitely Not Well” Chapter 4. The short explanation is that a wizard or witch can speak a divorce declaration anytime during the marriage, but immediately afterwards, the divorcer’s magic is 75-percent bound, all money that is held in a joint vault gets moved into a sole vault that belongs to the divorced spouse, all property that is jointly owned becomes solely owned by the divorced spouse, and the divorced spouse gets full child custody. All these things can be reversed only by the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and then only for grounds of adultery or potioning. That your wife shamed you by stealing from one of your son’s friends, was caught, and was sentenced to the goblin mines—this is not considered excusable grounds for divorce.

**Soon afterwards, back at Potter Manor  
** **Still Tuesday, 1st November, 1994, afternoon**

When Harry returned to Potter Manor, after acquainting himself with his two new houses, he found another Gringotts letter waiting for him. This letter told him, thoroughly and without a manipulative old man’s hidden agenda, about the wards currently set for Number 4, Privet Drive—

• flame-suppression for the house, if the house would catch fire or would be set on fire;

• warding against a particular magical person, whom the ward identified by the Hufflepuff Magical-Signature Text of MSUNRXZPFL;

• warding against all bad-intent magicals;

• warding against Apparition to inside the wards;

• warding against Portkeying to inside the wards;

• an alarm that Harry is away from the house at 6 p.m., when he was at the house at 6 a.m.;

• an alarm if Harry would die.

Harry figured that the “particular magical person” who was warded-against was Voldemort— _So give a point to Dumbledore, who told the truth for once_.

Then Harry read the end of the Gringotts letter, which described exactly _how_ these wards on Number 4, Privet Drive were powered.

Harry became instantly furious.

“ _Dobby!_ ” Harry yelled. “I need you to take me to Gringotts, _right now!_ ”

****

**Minutes later, in Axefrenzy’s office**

“Explain this last part of the letter to me,” Harry snarled, referring to the Gringotts letter that listed the wards on the Dursleys’ house. Harry said to Axefrenzy, “It sure looks to me like the long-bearded wanker lied to me. _Again_.”

Axefrenzy said calmly, “There are four ways for the master wardstone to get enough magic to do its jobs. Firstly, if the master wardstone is close enough to ley lines, the master wardstone can take power from the ley lines with no wizard or witch needing to do anything. But there are no ley lines near the house where your relatives live, because otherwise a magical lord would have built his house there, centuries ago.”

Harry said, “Sure, I can see that.”

“The second way to magically power the master wardstone is that when you have many magic-users in a building, all performing magic, the magic-users _leak_ magic, and the master wardstone soaks up this magic. House-elves get their magic from human magicals’ leaked magic. The Hogwarts Founders designed the wardstones for Hogwarts Castle to be huge, not only because the castle was near two ley lines, but also because hundreds of magical children would continually be leaking magic and the wardstones would be charging the castle wards from this magic.”

Harry said, “That sort of ward-design wouldn’t work at my relatives’ house. There is only one magic-user who’s ever there, _me_ , and I’m _forbidden_ to cast spells there till I’m seventeen.”

Axefrenzy nodded. “The third way for the master wardstone to have enough magic is for a magical person, from time to time, to inject magic from his magical core into the wardstone till he or she almost is magically exhausted. Think of the master wardstone being like a pitcher—if you want water to pour out of the pitcher whenever you get thirsty, somebody has to keep refilling the pitcher with water.”

Harry said, “Yeah, and we don’t need this Gringotts letter to know that this is _not_ how the Privet Drive wards are recharged. Because this kind of recharging would force Dumbledore to take time out of his _busy schedule_ to recharge the wards. And whilst he’s in the neighbourhood, to maybe even talk to me and to see how I’m doing? But Dumbles and me having conversations whilst he kneeled over the wardstone—these conversations _never_ happened!”

Axefrenzy gave Harry a grim look. “The last way to charge a wardstone magically is to continually power the wardstone from a particular magical person’s magical core, this person being identified by his magical blood. This is the case for the wards on your relatives’ house, and our ward-experts have identified whom the blood keys to: _you_.”

Harry asked carefully, “But for me, whose blood the wards are tied to, the drain on my magical power happens _all the time_ , right? And _no matter where I am_ , right? I don’t have to be anywhere near Privet Drive to be charging the wards there, right?”

Axefrenzy said, “You are correct on all counts.”

“And my mother, Lily Evans Potter, has _nothing to do_ with whatever magic keeps those wards strong? Like, say, keeping the anti-Voldemort ward strong?”

“Exactly.”

“So one more time, to revise: Right now, whilst I sit in this chair in Gringotts, my magical core is powering the wards at Privet Drive.”

“Yes.”

“At the cost of some of my magical strength.”

“Yes.”

“There is nothing new, special or unique about how the wards are set up.”

“Correct.”

Harry said, “That lying, manipulative, long-bearded _tosser!_ ”

****

**Five minutes later**

The goblin healer stood in Axefrenzy’s office. With a steady gaze, the goblin female gave Harry the bad news—

She confirmed that it was Harry’s blood that the Privet Drive wardstone matched for where to take magic from; so yes, there was a magical tap on Harry’s magical core to power the wards for his relatives’ house.

And oh, by the way, Harry had a 1981 infant-block on his magical power that should have been removed when he first came to Hogwarts, but never was removed. Also by the way, Harry had a second block on his magic, placed in 1991.

And oh, by the way, Harry’s famous scar had a little piece of Voldemort’s soul in it.

“ _Take it out_ ,” Harry said, when the basics of horcruxes were explained to him. “I don’t care what it costs, _dig the bloody thing out of my scar!_ ”

****

**That evening, before dinner, in Hogwarts SOW &W**

Before Hermione went to the Great Hall to eat dinner, she went to the Owlery to owl-post a letter to Harry—

_I love you, Harry. Before I write you anything else, I want you to know I love you._

_I have lots of hot news to share—call me Lavender, or Parvati! First off, Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE, came to Hogwarts this morning. For some reason, she sent Madam Pomfrey to Saint Mungo’s—as a patient! Sirius’s cousin, Andromeda Tonks, is now the temporary Healer in the hospital wing._

_Amelia Bones arrested Professor Dumbledore for ???, but he was released less than an hour later. As soon as the headmaster returned to Hogwarts, he rushed off to Gringotts—not even Professor McGonagall knows why. But then the goblins arrested the headmaster for something, tried him, and sentenced him to the goblin mines. Professor McGonagall now is Headmistress. The first thing she did was to transfigure the golden throne that Professor Dumbledore always sat on, into something much plainer._

_As soon as Headmistress McGonagall announced that Professor Dumbledore now was Prisoner Dumbledore and that she now was headmistress, Professor Snape resigned “immediately.” Oh, you should have heard the_ cheering _from the Hogwarts students! All of the other professors looked relieved._

Hermione described Neville during lunch defending Harry in front of the entire student body, even leading a show of hands of who thought Harry had told the truth about the Goblet. (Every student except Ron, Hermione reported.) Then, Hermione wrote, Neville did a brave thing: He admitted to everyone that he was ashamed of not running outside in support after Harry had left, as Hermione and Luna had done.

_Luna Lovegood told me an interesting rumour she heard in her common room after lunch. Supposedly Draco offered some seventh-year Ravenclaws lots of galleons to make magical badges that said, “I support Cedric Diggory”—but then the badges would switch to a second message, “Potter is a coward.” Luna told me that the Ravenclaws refused to be involved with binning Harry. Draco raised the price, but the seventh-year Ravenclaws still refused._

_The reason I mention this is because of what happened in the corridor outside the Potions classroom this afternoon, before class. The Slytherin half of the class was arguing with each other, but lowly. Then out of the blue, Blaise Zabini yelled, “Draco, it’s not_ Potter _who is the coward in this school!”_

 _This started a_ loud _argument between Draco, Blaise and Daphne Greengrass. All we Gryffindors laughed when Daphne stuck her nose_ way _high in the air and said, haughtily enough to out-Draco Draco, “My father, Cyrus Greengrass, is a Lord Head of House. So beware, child, if you make me cry, my father shall hex you till you’re hospitalised.” Tracey Davis, Daphne’s friend, was laughing like a fool during Daphne’s performance. During all this, Draco’s face turned Weasley red._

_Speaking of Weasley, Ron is now shunned by the entire school. Even the twins and Ginny never speak to him now, unless they have to. The main reason Ron is shunned is that he still won’t admit he was wrong about you putting in your name. Every student in Hogwarts thinks Ron is the main reason you left the school, and Gryffindors also are mad at Ron because we won’t have any easy wins on the Quidditch pitch anymore._

_Everyone wants to know what has happened to you. I read your letter out loud in the Great Hall, and everyone was listening—all four Houses, the professors, the foreign students, and even Draco!_

_Amelia Bones came back to Hogwarts this afternoon, to ask me where you were. I told her that I wouldn’t tell even if I knew. Madam Bones was fine with this answer, but Headmistress McGonagall was shocked that Hermione Granger didn’t roll over for an authority figure. I told them that Tom Marvolo Riddle had become Lord Voldemort (neither witch knew that those two were connected), and I was questioned about your home life. I think Madam Bones wanted to invent five new curses this afternoon, just so she could cast those curses on the Dursleys._

_So that’s all the news from here. Have you told your godfather about all this? What does he think of you snapping your wand and leaving Hogwarts?_

****

When Harry read the end of Hermione’s letter, he slapped his forehead. “I’ve forgotten to write to Sirius! Everything will be front-page news in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow morning, and Sirius will have _kittens_ if I haven’t explained myself ahead of time.”

Harry added, “I also need to write Hermione back.”

****

**A half-hour later, in a cave near Hogsmeade**

Sirius Black was _laughing_ , as he had not laughed since October of 1981.

Oh, he wasn’t laughing at the part of Harry’s letter that described how Dumbledore had tried to force Harry into the Triwizard Tournament—this part of the letter made Sirius frightened and angry. But after Dumbledore’s tomfoolery, Harry had done something truly courageous: He had snapped his own wand and _had walked away_. Sometime after this, Dumbledore, who always thought he was more clever than everyone else, somehow had gotten himself arrested by the goblins (for _stealing from Harry!_ ), and now Harry owned two of Dumbledore’s houses. Harry’s description of Dumbledore’s bedroom was _hilarious!_ Sirius cackled.

Harry also had written that he soon would be living in Potter Manor, which needed repairs but was getting them. Within a week, Harry claimed, both the Potter Manor building and the Potter Manor wards would be repaired, by house-elves and by goblins—then Harry invited Sirius to come live with him.

Sirius’s most treasured memories in his entire life were the times he had spent in Potter Manor during hols, during his Hogwarts years. Charlus and Dorea Potter had treated teen-Sirius with kindness and respect, whilst Sirius’s real parents had treated him with loathing; so the idea of Sirius now being invited back to Potter Manor was delightful!

If Sirius could hook up again with his old girlfriend Amy, life would be damned near perfect.

****

**Meanwhile in Hogwarts, in the Gryffindor common room**

_Pop_. A Hogwarts house-elf appeared to George (and to Fred) Weasley and said, “Headmistress Kitty wants all four of you Wheezies to come to her office.”

George began, “Any idea what—”

“—this is about?” Fred finished.

“No. Come now, Headmistress Kitty is waiting,” the house-elf said, then _pop_ ped away.

George asked a female prefect to fetch Ginny (who was in her dorm room), and told Ron to end his chess game. When all four Weasley students were gathered in the common room, they walked out of the portrait hole and headed towards Headmistress McGonagall’s office.

During their walk, the redheads were quiet, because they worried that they were in trouble—even worse, none of them could guess what all four of them were in trouble _for_.

In the headmistress’s office was McGonagall, as the Weasley children expected—but also in the room was the children’s father, Arthur Weasley.

McGonagall said, “Arthur, you have my permission to put up a Silencing Charm, so that neither the portraits nor I can hear what you and the children have to say.”

After Arthur Weasley put up the Silencing Charm, his face turned grim. “Children, your mother stole money from Harry Potter’s vault, the goblins arrested her, and she’s been sentenced to the goblin mines for five years.”

Ron exploded. “ _Five years?_ After Mum did Potter a _favour_ and bought his school supplies for him, so he wouldn’t have to?”

Fred held up a hand to silence Ron. “How much money do the goblins say Mum stole from Harry?”

Arthur pulled a parchment from his robes and unfolded it. “The amount your mother stole was 1 260 galleons. Some of that G1 260 she put into a vault that I didn’t know about; some of that G1 260 she spent. Last year and this year, she made many trips to Diagon Alley, charging things to Harry’s vault key. The last purchase she made, using Harry’s key, was on 5th September.”

George whistled. “Mum can’t claim she needed the key only to buy Harry’s school supplies, when she was spending his money on the fifth day of term.”

Ron crossed his arms. “Potter could afford it, and our family always needs money. It’s no big deal.”

Arthur stared into his children’s eyes. “When the goblins went to your mother’s personal vault to take back the money she’d stolen, there wasn’t enough. So the goblins took G512 out of the family vault. That’s over half the money that was in this vault before, so money is _tight_ now, children. Your mother stealing from Harry Potter, and being caught, is not only a _shame_ and a _disgrace_ for our family, it’s a _disaster_.”

“Yeah, and it’s all Potter’s fault!” said Ron. “If he hadn’t told the goblins to arrest Mum, we wouldn’t be in trouble.”

Arthur said, “I’ve no reason to believe that Harry knew about _any_ of this till it was all over.”

Ron’s ears were red. “It doesn’t matter. Potter’s rich. He doesn’t need the money as much as _we_ do!”

Arthur snapped, “Weasleys do not steal. _Period_. We _especially_ do not steal from someone who _trusted_ us.”

“Not a problem anymore,” George said, whilst smirking at Ron.

Fred said, “I’m not sure if Harry trusts the rest of us—”

“—but he clearly no longer trusts Ron,” George said.

Arthur, looking confused, asked, “Why does Harry no longer trust Ron?”

George, Fred and Ginny explained all about yesterday’s disaster with the Goblet of Fire drawing, Ron several times _loudly_ calling Harry a cheater and a liar, then Harry rebuking Ron, snapping his own wand, yelling “Fuck you all,” and walking out.

In short, three of the four Weasley children informed their father about news he had not heard; whilst Ron whined, complained and slandered Harry—

“Potter cheated somehow, he got the Goblet of Fire to pick his name. That isn’t something a good person does, _is it?_ But then he lied to me and he wouldn’t tell me how he did it. I’m his _best mate_ , and he refused to tell me how he’d fooled the Goblet. I’m his best mate—I’m entitled to know!”

“The tosser told everyone, ‘I love you, Hermione.’ Then they _kissed_. How dare he! He _knew_ I fancied Hermione—and besides, Potter is only a halfblood.”

“Potter told everyone that I wasn’t his friend anymore! He didn’t _wait_ for my apology, he didn’t _ask_ for my apology, he just _wrote me off!_ He _publicly humiliated_ me!”

Eventually Arthur said, “Be quiet, Ron. I’ve heard enough.”

Ron scowled. “But Dad—”

“I. Said. Be. _Quiet!_ ”

Several minutes passed whilst none of the five redheads spoke.

Eventually Arthur said, “Molly is a disgrace to the family. But for reasons that have nothing to do with my feelings for your mother, I’ve chosen not to speak a divorce declaration against her. In years past, she has taken advantage of this, and taken advantage of my easy nature—usually I’m not a forceful man. The result? Now she’s a prisoner in a goblin mine, and my family is in crisis.

“Ronald, _you_ are just as much a disgrace to the family as is your mother, and it is clear that you have learnt your values—or rather, your _lack_ of values—from your mother instead of from me. I’m convinced that in the future, you’ll find other ways to act disgracefully— _serious_ ways. _Which the Weasley family no longer can afford_.”

George noted that Ron’s ears were flaming-red now, and Ron was scowling. Amazingly, Ron said nothing.

Arthur Weasley continued, “Ginevra, you have some of your brother’s bad attitudes—you see Harry Potter as a doll, or perhaps a bank, rather than as a wizard who deserves honour and respect. I’ve heard you explain at dinner why you _deserve_ to marry Harry Potter, who clearly cares for Miss Granger but doesn’t care for you. But you’re not yet lost, Ginevra, whilst Ronald is _already_ lost. What I do now, my daughter, I do to _shock_ you and to make you _think_.”

Arthur drew his wand and pointed it straight up. “As Head of House Weasley, I call family judgement upon my son Ronald Bilius Weasley. I cast him out, I cast him out, I cast him out. I call back his Weasley family magic and I vanish his Weasley name. So mote it be.”

For an instant, both father and son glowed with brilliant white light. Then Ron screamed, and dropped to his knees. Since George’s eyes now were above the head of Ronald Bilius No-Name, George quickly noticed something about Ron’s hair—

Ron’s hair now was brown, a little darker than Hermione’s, with no redness in the hair.

Arthur waved his wand then, cancelling the Silencing Charm.

As Arthur put his wand back in his forearm-holster, he locked eyes with Ginny. “Ginevra, learn from this. Don’t give me reason to do this to _you_ someday.”

As Ron stood up, he scowled at his former father. “If you feel so hot about punishing someone, you should’ve punished _Potter_. Because he _publicly humiliated_ me last night!” Ron shoved Fred aside and stomped out of the headmistress’s office.

Now George noticed McGonagall. She hadn’t heard what the Weasley family had said, because of the Silencing Charm, but she had been able to see the two bright flashes when Arthur Weasley had invoked family magic. As Ron hurried out the door, the headmistress was staring in shock at his hair.

****

**8 p.m. at Gringotts**

The ritual to remove Harry’s forehead-horcrux took four hours, Harry was charged twenty thousand galleons—twice the cost of a new Firebolt—and Harry was in agony the entire time. But when the ritual was finished, Harry’s lightning-bolt scar was _only_ a scar.

The mail-owl-redirect spell took ten minutes and was done at no charge, since the removal of this spell was good for Gringotts and for Harry both.

Then Harry spent another two thousand galleons, and another half-hour of his life, to get both of the blocks on his magical core removed. This caused more agony.

However, when Harry left Gringotts, the Privet Drive blood-wards still were marked with Harry’s blood. Tomorrow, Harry had a plan how to fix this—and wouldn’t Mr Twinkle-Eyes be surprised!

Harry wrote a quick note to Hermione (his second to her of the day), explaining about horcruxes, and updating Hermione that today the horcrux in Harry’s scar had been removed. Harry asked Hermione not to read this note aloud, so that the horcrux-less scar would remain their secret.

At the bottom of this note to Hermione, Harry wrote, “P.S. I love you.”


	7. Wizarding Britain Finds Out

**Early the next morning  
** **Wednesday, 2nd November, 1994  
** **In the blue-and-silver bedroom, Dumbledore House**

Harry woke up in a quiet, tastefully coloured bedroom in Dumbledore House—a house which had belonged to Albus Dumbledore till yesterday.

Unlike the fourth-year boys’ dorm in Gryffindor, Harry did not awaken to the sound of Ron’s and Seamus’s snoring. Unlike Dumbledore House’s master bedroom, the blue-and-silver bedroom did not smell awful, and this bedroom was not decorated in an eyeball-stomping colour scheme.

In Dumbledore House, four of the five bedrooms shared one bathroom. Sleepy Harry stumbled out of the blue-and-silver bedroom, along the corridor and into this bathroom. Harry took a shower—which is to say, he stood in a converted claw-foot bathtub.

As Harry cleaned himself, he snorted at the irony of his location. _In a week_ , Potter Manor would have its roof and walls repaired, and its wards up— _in a week_ , Harry would move into Potter Manor and spend the rest of his life there. But _right now_ , Harry was sure he was being hunted—by Amelia Bones, if nobody else—and _right now_ , Potter Manor offered Harry no protection. On the other hand, not only did Dumbledore House today protect Harry by means of walls and wards, but Dumbledore House offered a unique bit of protection in that _nobody_ —not even Prisoner Dumbledore in the goblin mines—expected Harry to spend even a minute in Dumbledore House.

After Harry shaved and dressed, he walked downstairs to the kitchen, to eat the full breakfast that Beekeeper and Dobby had cooked for him.

Harry had eaten almost all of his breakfast when he realised that, unlike at Hogwarts, his meal had not been interrupted by a hundred owls flying in, each carrying a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry was startled to realise that the last time he had seen a _Prophet_ was two days ago, Halloween morning.

Harry thought, _By now the newspaper will have reported that I refused the Triwizard Tournament and I quit Hogwarts. Maybe this time I’ll get fair news coverage? Nah, probably not_.

****

**Meanwhile, throughout Wizarding Britain**

This morning, of all the thousands of wizards and witches who subscribed to the _Daily Prophet_ —or who could borrow a copy, or who could steal a copy—there was only _one_ topic to discuss: the Page-1 news story that was under a three-line headline—

**POTTER, AGE 14, CHOSEN FOR TWT**

**SAID NO, SNAPPED OWN WAND, WALKED OUT**

**THREATENED TO GO MUGGLE, HAS DISAPPEARED**

The only place where the _Daily Prophet_ news about Harry Potter was not _fervently_ discussed was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts— because Harry walking out of Hogwarts was day-and-a-half old news.

****

**In the Great Hall**

Lavender Brown giggled. “I can’t believe the _Prophet_ printed Harry saying ‘Fuck you all.’ ”

Parvati tapped a paragraph on the front page of the _Prophet_ and read to Hermione, “DMLE Director Bones said, ‘We are treating Harry Potter being chosen by the Goblet of Fire as a murder plot. Our investigation is complicated by the fact that we wish to interview Mr Potter in person, but we have been unable to find him.’ ” Then Lavender asked Hermione, “What do you think of that?”

Hermione said, “I can think of one way to find Harry right now—”

“ _What?_ Tell me, tell me!”

“—but _no way_ will I say it _here_ , where Susan Bones might overhear.”

From two tables away, Hermione heard Susan Bones say, “ _Thanks_ , Granger, create more work for Auntie, why don’t you?” But Susan was smiling as she said it.

****

**Speaking of Amelia Bones**

The Director of the DMLE was summoned to Cornelius Fudge’s office. A copy of this morning’s _Daily Prophet_ lay on top of his desk.

“Amelia,” said Fudge, who was looking especially pompous, “I order you to find Harry Potter and return him to Hogwarts.”

Amelia calmly asked, “Why?”

“He’s called the honesty of the entire Triwizard Tournament into question! Also, erm, erm”—Fudge was visibly struggling to invent an excuse—“he’s left school without permission.”

“He leaving school without permission is a matter between him and Hogwarts. Since I think someone at Hogwarts plotted murder against Harry Potter, and the person or persons unknown is still at Hogwarts, then I would be putting Potter in _deadly danger_ if I’d return him to the school. I would be violating Unbreakable Vows if I did such a thing.”

“How about you track him down and make a _polite request_ that he return to Hogwarts?”

“Because nobody would hear a ‘polite request’ from the DMLE as anything other than ‘Do as we say or we’ll throw your arse in Azkaban.’ Harry Potter _certainly_ would hear the ‘polite request’ as a veiled threat, given his background.”

“ _Merlin_ , Amelia, just find the boy and return him to Hogwarts! Do you have _any_ idea what the international press is saying about us?”

It was time to get formal. Amelia said, “Minister Fudge, I refuse to take Harry James Potter into custody, and I refuse to deliver him to Hogwarts. I refuse to use any Aurors other than myself to track down the location of Harry James Potter, because I am convinced that if anyone but me in the DMLE should discover the location of Harry James Potter, that he would be in danger. Also, looking for Harry James Potter in Muggle Britain would be a complete waste of departmental resources.”

Fudge sighed. “So you’re not going to budge on this?”

“I’ll resign first. Better to lose my job than to lose both my magic and my life.”

“ _Fudge_ ,” said Fudge.

****

Cornelius toyed with the idea of sacking Amelia and tasking the new head of the DMLE with dragging Harry Potter back to Hogwarts. But then Cornelius remembered that—

Firstly, at the moment, Amelia enjoyed a better reputation in Wizarding Britain than Cornelius did. In a worst-case scenario, Cornelius would fail a no-confidence vote in the Wizengamot.

Secondly, hirings and promotions in the DMLE, as elsewhere in the Ministry, favoured Purebloods over Halfbloods and favoured Halfbloods over Muggle-borns. If Harry Potter indeed had moved into the Muggle world, even a hundred _Pureblood_ Aurors would have no idea how to find him.

Cornelius toyed with the idea of _Imperius_ -ing some Muggle Aurors and ordering them to hunt down Harry Potter. But then he remembered that he, Fudge, would be sentenced to _life_ in Azkaban if news of this would break.

 _Fudge!_ thought Fudge.

****

**In Riddle Manor**

Peter Pettigrew had just read aloud, to the ugly homunculus of Voldemort, everything that this morning’s _Daily Prophet_ had to say about Harry Potter. The rat-man’s throat now was dry, because the _Prophet_ had _much_ to say about Potter today.

“The boy is a coward!” Voldemort yelled in the homunculus’s high-pitched voice.

“Definitely a coward,” Peter agreed. Peter did not mention that he had no room to talk—he stayed with the ugly-baby Dark Lord only because Peter was _terrified_ of what would happen if he ran away.

Voldemort said, “Harry Potter proves himself to be a worthless boy, but it must be _Harry_ whose blood we take in the ritual. _Bugger!_ ”

Peter had to work hard _not_ to grin at hearing _that_ profanity come from someone with the voice of a toddler.

Voldemort continued, “Wormtail, go now to Hogwarts, infiltrate as a rat, find Barty and order him to find Harry Potter. Then hurry back before I need my nappy changed!”

****

**Back in the Great Hall, Hogwarts SOW &W**

Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, forking up eggs and talking with Neville and Parvati, when she heard a familiar (and unwanted) male voice behind her—

“Oh my, look who’s _not_ a redhead anymore.”

Ron snarled, “ _Shut it_ , Malfoy. I don’t need to hear from you.”

Ron was sitting between the Gryffindor fifth-years and the third-years, but he was not in any other way part of the fourth-year Gryffindor group. The bench-seats to either side of Ron and in front of him were all empty. Also, Gryffindors excluded Ron from their conversations—except for Lavender to rudely ask Ron how he had been cast out of the Weasley family. So it was no surprise to Hermione that Ron had been scowling since the first moment that Hermione had seen him this morning.

Hermione was burning with curiosity why Ron was no longer a Weasley; but Hermione had let Lavender Brown ask Ron the tactless question. But Lavender’s asking had achieved nothing—George, Fred and Ginny all had been tight-lipped, the same as no-longer-redheaded Ron.

Now, seconds after Draco Malfoy’s own rude words, Hermione glanced over her shoulder. It was no surprise that the bookends—Crabbe and Goyle—were standing to the left and right of the talking ferret.

****

“ _So_ ,” Draco purred, “even your own blood-traitor father recognised how much a _disgrace_ you are, _Not_ -Weasley. The _Prophet_ says that your own mother, ‘Howler Molly,’ was arrested by the goblins for theft. Did _you_ steal too, but not get caught?”

“Shut your mouth, you slimy snake!”

“Poor Ronald No-Name,” said Draco, oozing fake sympathy. “You had it all planned out: You planned to get rich and famous as Potter’s ‘best mate,’ didn’t you? A new shapely bird every week, and carrying the key to a fat vault by the time you were twenty. But then the Goblet spit out Potter’s name, and you just had to run your mouth, didn’t you? Right here in the Great Hall, in front of hundreds, you called Potter a cheater and you called him a liar—such a _loyal_ ‘best mate’ you were, hm? But for once, Scarhead called you out. He called you a ‘lazy, envious, redhead slob,’ didn’t he? Then Potter said, ‘In case you haven’t figured it out, Weasley, you’re no longer my friend, “best” or otherwise.’ Your future is pretty much _bollocksed_ now, and it’s _your own fault_. You _know_ this, don’t you, _Not_ -Weasley?”

Hermione noticed that not only were Ron’s ears red, but so was his face. Yet for whatever reason, Ron did not speak.

Instead, Ron put down his fork, and let his hands drop below the table—which put Ron’s right hand near the pocket of his robes.

Hermione made herself speak calmly: “Ron, you know he’s trying to make you lose your temper, right? Stay calm.”

Ron shot Hermione a look that said _Why are you telling me this? Do you think I’m stupid?_ Then Ron turned his angry but silent face back towards Draco.

Draco said, “One day Granger might be a famous book author”—Hermione gave Draco a startled look—“and Longbottom might be a famous herbologist, but what is _your_ future, _Not_ -Weasley?”

Draco answered his own question: “ _Your_ future is sweeping floors and vanishing dustbins, _that’s it!_ You wanted to play professional Quidditch? You won’t even get a job as the Bludgers-polisher for the Chudley Cannons.” Draco laughed scornfully.

Ron, whilst Draco was laughing, jumped up; Ron pointed his wand at Draco. “You die! _Avada_ —”

Three male voices spoke at the same time: “ _Reducto!_ ”/“ _Diffindo!_ ”/“ _Kedavra!_ ”

Crabbe’s spell missed Ron. Goyle’s spell did _not_ miss Ron—the top half of Ron’s head was sliced off. Draco silently dropped.

****

**One second later**

Hermione jumped up and yelled, “ _Don’t anybody move! Crabbe and Goyle, Gryffindors, nobody move, don’t anyone do anything stupid!_ ”

Then Hermione turned towards the Head Table. “Headmistress, Healer Tonks, you two are needed here.”

As McGonagall and Healer Tonks were rushing towards the fourth-year-Gryffindors part of the room, Hermione turned towards the Hufflepuff table and looked for the fourth-year redhead there. “Susan, please tell your aunt that we need Aurors _now_. Ron and Draco are dead.”

Hundreds of students gasped.

Now Hermione could take the time to look about. Crabbe and Goyle looked worried, whilst most of the Gryffindors looked angry. George and Fred looked unsure, but Ginny looked murderous. Two Gryffindor firstie girls were holding each other and were sobbing. Hermione looked down at Draco, intending to give the corpse only a glance—but then Hermione saw something that startled her.

When McGonagall and Healer Tonks were gathered near unmoving Draco, Hermione said, “Headmistress, look for Draco’s wand. I think it’s still in his pocket.”

Headmistress McGonagall squatted down and checked Draco’s pockets. Sure enough, she found Draco’s wand in a pocket of his robes. “What does this mean?” the headmistress wondered.

Hermione took a deep breath, to calm herself, because she knew what would happen next. “What Draco’s wand in his pocket means, Headmistress, is that Gregory Goyle was defending a friend when he killed Ron; Goyle did _not_ commit murder.”

“You _traitor!_ ” Ginny snapped.

At the Slytherin table, Daphne Greengrass stood up and said, “Did I hear you right, Granger? A snake kills a lion and you’re _defending_ him?”

Hermione turned to face Daphne, who was on the other side of the room. “I’m defending him, yes, because of what I just saw. Ron started his spellcasting first, and he AK’d Draco. Draco didn’t have his wand out, but Crabbe and Goyle did. Defending a friend or family member isn’t considered murder if you kill the attacker.”

George and Fred stood up then, and the Great Hall went silent. The Weasley twins walked over to where Hermione, Crabbe, Goyle, and McGonagall were standing. (Healer Tonks was on the other side of the Gryffindor table now, examining Ron’s sliced-in-half head.)

The twins asked Hermione, “Which one of them—”

“—cast the fatal spell?”

Hermione gestured towards Goyle. “He did.”

This time, the twins did not do Twinspeak. Instead, Fred put his hand on George’s shoulder and looked solemnly at Goyle, as George spoke—

“We’ve two more years here. We prank people, it’s what we do, and we _love_ to prank Slytherins. So you _will_ be pranked; deal with it. But”—here George paused, as if he was groping for the words to say—“we won’t prank you because of _this_. Hermione says you did nothing wrong, and we trust her. Our _wanker_ of a brother brought this on himself.”

Ginny, however, glared at Crabbe and Goyle and said, “The twins don’t speak for me. You two can expect _trouble_ from me.”

Fred sighed. “Ginny, Ron murdered Draco because Draco said _Ron would never get a job with the Cannons_.”

Without another word, the Weasley twins walked back to their seats.

Right after this, Amelia Bones and six Aurors burst into the Great Hall.

****

**Half an hour later, in Dumbledore House**

After breakfast, Harry walked up the stairs and walked to the entrance door to Albus’s bedroom. Harry conjured a clothespin, put it on his nose to pinch his nostrils shut, opened the door, and walked into the former headmaster’s former bedroom.

Harry walked over to the wardrobe, opened it, and looked at the wizard robes inside. For the first time in his life, Harry regretted having full colour vision.

****

**Fifteen minutes later, in Gringotts UK’s iron mine**

An amplified goblin voice yelled from the mine elevator, “ _Prisoner Dumbledore, come here_.”

Albus Dumbledore put down his mining pick and walked towards the mine elevator—or rather, he _waddled_ towards the mine elevator. The magic-suppressing fetters that he wore were made up of an ankle-cuff around each of his legs, and a fifteen-inch chain. So it was his choice whether he minced through the mine tunnel or he waddled through the mine tunnel. Either way, he could not move quickly through the mine tunnel.

By the mine elevator, the lights were a little brighter, so Albus could see who was waiting for him. Instead of the normal two goblin guards by the elevator, he saw three goblins—also two wizards and a chubby woman wearing prisoner overalls. _Considering how little the goblins feed us_ , Albus thought, _if she’s heavyset, she must be a new prisoner like me_.

Seconds later, Albus’s theory was confirmed when he saw that the female prisoner-miner was Molly Weasley. Just then, Albus heard a goblin say, “Return to work, Prisoner Weasley.”

Up till now, Albus had ignored the two wizards by the mine elevator; but after Molly walked back into the mine tunnel, Albus saw the two wizards clearly. One of the wizards was an angry Bill Weasley, who had something draped over his shoulder. The other wizard was a young man with a daring fashion sense— _wait_ , the other wizard was Harry Potter! A Harry Potter who was wearing lemon-yellow robes with fluffy, slow-moving clouds on them; robes that were identical to robes that Albus once had worn proudly.

Albus caught both Harry and Mr Weasley looking at Albus’s face in surprise. Right after the goblins had sentenced Albus to the mines, the goblins had cut off all of Albus’s hair and all of his beard.

Now, as bald and clean-shaven Albus waddled close to the two wizards, and as the chain-part of his fetters rattled and clanked, Albus put on a smile and said, “Harry, my boy.”

Harry said, “You forget yourself, thief.”

Then Harry looked at the goblin who was standing next to him, and said, “Battlecry, can you do something about his light that is shining in my eyes? It’s blinding me.”

Whenever the prisoner-miners entered the mines for the day, a goblin sticky-charmed a magical cold-torch to each prisoner’s forehead. Albus had such a torch on his forehead now, and the bright light was making Harry’s face glow and his eyes squint.

The goblin named Battlecry casually waved a hand; Harry’s face stopped glowing.

Meanwhile, Bill Weasley was saying to Albus, “Prisoner Dumbledore, I just had an _interesting_ conversation with my mother. She used Harry’s key and spent money from Harry’s vault, and that’s how she wound up here—getting calluses on her hands, and getting filthy, and never eating enough. Want to know something? I say she deserves this, even though she’s my mother, because she’s a _thief_ who got caught. But just now I asked her: How did she get Harry’s key? She got the key from _you_. So I _owe_ you, Prisoner Dumbledore, for tempting my mother.”

Dumbledore ignored Bill. “Harry, it’s good to see you again. I applaud your bold fashion choice.”

Harry sneered. “Oh, you mean the robes? Funny thing about that—the deeds to two houses showed up in the Potter family vault, and I, being a curious lad, checked out both properties. The bigger house came with an eager house-elf, an ancestral portrait named Polonius who’s _angry_ at you right now, and the master bedroom has a wardrobe in which many _fabulous_ wizard robes are stored. As for the other house, Ibiza is wonderful this time of year.”

“Harry, my boy, I’m willing to overlook the fact that the value of my gold that the goblins gave you, _plus_ the value of the two deeds that the goblins gave you, is worth _much_ more than the gold I _diverted_ from your vault.”

Harry replied harshly, “Amazing. You _stole_ from me, and now you’re _also_ trying to imply I _owe_ you because the goblins punished you too harshly?”

“Harry, did you come here to _gloat_ about being awarded Dumbledore House? I’m disappointed in you.”

Harry said to Mr Weasley, “Hear that, Bill? _Oi_ , I’ve disappointed the _thief_. Let’s do what we came for. Battlecry, if you would?”

Standing next to Harry and Mr Weasley was a goblin who was not one of the two goblin guards; this goblin had turned off Albus’s magical cold-torch. Now this goblin gestured towards Albus, and Albus blacked out.

****

**Sometime later**

Albus was lying on the filthy floor of the mine tunnel. He discovered that standing up was tricky when he was wearing fetters that limited his feet to being no more than fifteen inches apart.

Harry and Mr Weasley both were smirking at Albus, as if they knew a secret that Albus did not know.

Albus said, “What has happened to me? I feel strange.”

Fourteen-year-old Harry adopted a grandfatherly face and said, “Albus, my boy, you have enough miseries in your life as a prisoner-miner; I do you a kindness by sparing you knowledge of unpleasant facts.”

No matter what Albus said, neither Harry nor Mr Weasley were persuaded to tell Albus what had happened whilst Albus had been goblin-Stupefied.

Albus noticed that draped over Mr Weasley’s shoulder was a set of prisoner-miner fetters, like what Albus himself wore. Albus wondered why Mr Weasley had those, and how those fetters on Mr Weasley’s shoulders tied in with the secret that Albus was not being told.

****

Harry had been enraged when the latest letter from Axefrenzy had told Harry two things—

Firstly, that Dumbledore’s claim, that the Privet Drive wards needed for Harry to live with the Dursleys for a certain amount of time every year, in order to “recharge” the wards, was a bloody _lie_. Secondly, the letter stated that the Privet Drive wards were vampirish, draining off some of Harry’s magical strength.

However Harry, as much as he hated his Muggle relatives, did not want the Dursleys to be tortured and killed by evil wizards. So simply cutting the connexion between Harry’s magical core and the Privet Drive wards was not an option.

Instead, Harry and Bill Weasley (whilst Disillusioned) had injected some magical power into the Privet Drive wards, then they had travelled to Gringotts to pay a visit to Dumbledore in the goblin mines.

Once Dumbledore had been goblin-Stunned, a sample of his blood had been taken by Bill. Bill had Portkeyed back to Privet Drive, had broken the link between Harry’s blood on the wardstone and the Privet Drive wards, had Scourgify’d Harry’s blood on the wardstone, had dripped Dumbledore’s blood on the wardstone, then Bill had made a link between Dumbledore’s blood on the wardstone, and the Privet Drive wards. After this, Bill had Portkeyed back to Harry in the goblins’ iron mine. Then still-Stunned Dumbledore’s magic-blocking fetters had been removed by Battlecry, and replacement fetters had been snapped on. Bill casually had laid the old, magic-blocking fetters on his shoulder. Once all these things had been done, Dumbledore had been goblin-Rennervated.

The new fetters that Dumbledore now was wearing still had a goblin anti-unlock charm on them and a goblin anti-vanish charm on them. But the new fetters did not have a goblin magic-suppression charm on them.

None of the three people who now were staring at Dumbledore’s face, told him that it was _his_ magical strength, not Harry’s, that now was powering the Privet Drive wards. Nor was Dumbledore told that not only was _some_ of his magical strength being tapped for the Privet Drive wards, but _all_ of his magical strength was being diverted.

From now till the minute Dumbledore died, the wardstone at Number 4, Privet Drive would drain him magically dry. All for the Greater Good, of course.

****

After Dumbledore was revived, he evidently realised that something had been done to him whilst he had been goblin-Stunned, then he spent several minutes trying to coax the secret from Harry.

Harry ignored Dumbledore’s politely-phrased demand for information. Instead, Harry glanced at Bill Weasley and said, “It’s time to leave, I think. After all, the iron ore down here won’t mine itself.”

Harry, Bill and Battlecry had not taken even one step towards the mine elevator when Dumbledore called out, “ _Harry_ , _wait!_ ”

Harry took another step towards the elevator.

“Harry, _Voldemort is alive_ , and _one day he’ll come back_ , and _only you_ can defeat him, and there are _dark secrets_ that you need to know, which _only I_ can tell you!”

Harry turned-about only partway; only Harry’s head, turned to the side, faced Dumbledore. Harry said in a bored voice, “Have you forgotten that by sundown on the 24th, I could be a Squib for the rest of my life? If I turn Squib, I don’t think even _Merlin_ knew any hidden knowledge that would help me defeat Voldemort.”

“ _Harry, you need my help!_ ”

“Let me guess, old man, what you want in return for your ‘help’: _If_ I can get the goblins to release you, _and_ I spend every moment that I’m not in school, living with the Dursleys and accepting their abuse, _then_ you will spare the time to share your bountiful knowledge and wisdom with me—”

“Yes, Harry, that’s—”

“ _Minus_ , of course, whatever you _hold back_ from telling me for quote, my own good, unquote.”

“Harry, you’re only _fourteen_ , a mere youth, and—”

Harry laughed. “I’m going with Plan B.” Harry pulled a Gringotts letter from the pocket of his robes. “This letter says that if you’d gone on a spree with my money, so that you couldn’t pay back everything you’d stolen from me, the goblins would have executed you immediately. As it is, a seventy-five-year sentence _here_ means the goblins will work you to death sooner or later, but it’s not _officially_ a death sentence. Follow me so far?”

Confused-looking Dumbledore nodded.

“Before I came down today, I asked Axefrenzy, ‘How bad are the mines for prisoners who are sentenced here?’ He told me that only 50 percent of prisoners survive five years down here, and only 40 percent survive six years.”

Dumbledore gulped.

“ _Merlin_ ,” said Bill, “so Mum has only a fifty-fifty chance of walking out of here?”

Harry slapped Bill’s shoulder. “Sorry, Bill.” Then Harry turned back to Dumbledore, and Harry’s voice turned cold. “Here’s Plan B: I talk to the goblins about your sentence, asking them to reduce it from seventy-five years to six, _but_ your sentence also would include a _conditional_ stay of execution. Any time in the next six years, if I sent Gringotts a note saying ‘Axe the wanker’s neck,’ you would die that day.”

Bill said, “That sounds complicated. Why do it this way?”

“Because, Bill, if I _don’t_ do it this way, Albus here would continue his _bullshit mind games_ , deciding _what_ to tell me, and _when_ , and _how much_ to say, and deciding whether what he told me would be _100-percent truth_. The only way I’ll ever get information that is _complete_ , and that _I can trust_ , from this manipulative old fart is if he knows he’ll lose everything by pissing me off.”

Dumbledore said, “Harry, that you could even _imagine_ asking the goblins to execute me—you are turning Dark.”

“So you’re telling me ‘no’ then? You choose to work until you die, down here in the dark, and if I kill Voldemort forever, none of the credit goes to you? Fine.”

Harry again turned to walk into the mine elevator.

Dumbledore said, “Reduce my time to one year, not six years.”

Harry laughed. “Do you think you’re in position to bargain, _Prisoner_ Dumbledore? My offer, take it or leave it.”

“Fine, fine, _I agree!_ A six-year prison sentence with a conditional stay of execution, if you’ll visit me and listen to me.”

Dumbledore and Harry made an appointment for 8:30 p.m. on 23rd November, the night before the First Task. Harry would listen to whatever Dumbledore had to tell him, Harry would ask questions, then he would leave at nine o’clock. (Harry suspected that spending half an hour with Albus Dumbledore was going to be a complete waste of Harry’s time.)

****

**Seconds later, in the mine elevator**

In silence, Bill, Harry and Battlecry were riding in the creaking elevator as it rose. Suddenly Harry recalled what Dumbledore had yelled minutes ago: “Harry, Voldemort is alive, and one day he’ll come back.”

Harry had a realisation: _Dumbledore expects Voldemort and me to fight, again and again, until either I kill Voldemort forever or he kills me. But for whatever reason, Dumbledore wants it to be I, not Voldemort, who dies_.

Once Harry realised this, so many events of his life, most of them shitty, suddenly made sense: being put with the Dursleys, meeting the Weasley family in Kings Cross Station, being sent back to the Dursleys, the first-year farce of the third-floor corridor, being shunned in second year as the “Heir of Slytherin” and no professor speaking up, Sirius Black never being given a trial even though he was innocent, Dumbledore doing nothing to keep Harry out of the Triwizard Tournament two days ago, and more.

By the time that Bill and Battlecry stepped out of the mine elevator at the top, Harry was angry enough that he wanted to ride the elevator back down, find Dumbledore, and spell-curse the manipulative old man into goo.

But Harry did not indulge this urge; one minute later, he was walking into the Gringotts lobby, intending to wait in queue for a teller.

Whilst waiting for a teller, Harry realised something else: The one good thing in Harry’s life was the one thing that Dumbledore had not planned: Harry and Hermione becoming friends. With Hermione in Harry’s life, Harry no longer was lonely but was happy instead; Harry was _stronger_. Harry thought, _No wonder Dumbledore left Hermione petrified for months!_

Harry decided that as soon as he would return to Dumbledore House, he would write Hermione a love letter.

****

When Harry was at the teller cage, he asked to speak briefly with his account manager, Axefrenzy.

When Harry was face-to-face with Axefrenzy, Harry said, “When Dumbledore was stealing from my vault, your records stated he was making monthly withdrawals from one of his vaults of two hundred galleons, converting the money to a thousand pounds in cash notes, and sending that money to my uncle, Vernon Dursley. My question: How is Gringotts _sure_ this money went to Vernon Dursley?”

Axefrenzy replied, “Let me find out.”

For five minutes, Axefrenzy conjured parchments and looked at them. Then he replied, “The payments were made from Albus Dumbledore’s vault 1469, now closed. The Muggle money was sent to the Muggle on the first day of the month, beginning on 1st November, 1981. How the money was sent was by using the Nation’s ‘money-banish’ spell, for which Vault 1469 was charged two galleons each time. The ledger notes include the name of the intended recipient, Vernon G. Dursley, and the Nation-format map coordinates where the Muggle money was sent to.”

Harry asked, “Can you please show me on a map of Great Britain, where the money went, even though I’m sure I already know where?”

Axefrenzy conjured a floating map of Great Britain. A red dot on the map showed that the cash went to Little Whinging, in Surrey.

Harry asked, “Could you please enlarge this, so I can see what street and house the money was sent to?”

The map of Great Britain transformed into a map of Little Whinging. The red dot covered—no surprise—Number 4, Privet Drive.

Axefrenzy said, “I can tell you what room of the house it went to, if you want.”

Axefrenzy conjured a floating map of the house’s first floor, above a floating map of the house’s ground floor. The destination of the cash turned out to be the guest bedroom on the ground floor, which was next to the sitting room. The guest bedroom never was used except when Aunt Marge came to visit.

Harry said to Axefrenzy, “Uncle Vernon was sent a thousand pounds a month for my care, none of which he spent on me, and this money came from _my_ trust vault. But not only did Uncle Vernon cheat me, I’m certain that Uncle Vernon never told Inland Revenue”—Her Majesty’s tax collectors—“about the cash he magically received.”

Axefrenzy smiled at Harry, and that smile showed teeth. “If Mr Dursley hasn’t told Inland Revenue about his cash payments, someone else should tell them.”

Harry matched Axefrenzy’s predator smile with one of his own. “Do you know any Muggle-borns or Squibs over at Inland Revenue, who enjoy catching tax-cheaters as much as goblins enjoy catching thieves?”

****

**At lunchtime, in the Great Hall of Hogwarts**

Hermione had just walked in, and as usual was headed towards the middle of the Gryffindor table.

“Granger! _Granger!_ ” a girl’s voice yelled— _not_ from the Gryffindor table.

Hermione looked about. At the Slytherin table, Daphne Greengrass was standing up and was beckoning to Hermione. Once Hermione and the Slytherin girl made eye contact, Daphne said, “Granger, I invite you to come eat with us Slytherins.”

The entire Hogwarts-students part of the Great Hall went shocked-silent; only Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students continued talking.

The whiny voice of Pansy Parkinson snapped, “Are you a _blood-traitor_ , Greengrass? Granger is a _m_ —”

Daphne snapped back, “She spoke up for Crabbe and Goyle when nobody expected it. Frankly, I’d rather talk to _Granger_ than to an _inbred cow_ like you.”

Hermione said, “Thank you, Miss Greengrass, I accept your invitation.”

Hermione braced herself against Ron’s expected shouting tirade about “slimy snakes”—then Hermione realised that there would be no such tirade, because Ron was dead.

As Hermione came close to the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle stood up and bowed towards her. Before sitting back down on the bench, the two large Slytherin boys moved apart, creating a place for Hermione to sit.

In so doing, Crabbe’s hips bumped against Pansy’s shoulder. When Pansy didn’t take the hint to move down the bench, Daphne growled, “Were you raised in a Muggle barn, Parkinson? Make room for our guest or I’ll hex you!”

Pansy glared at Hermione but slid away, and Hermione took a seat—the only red-robed person amongst a table-full of green robes.

Hermione said politely, “Thank you for inviting me here, Miss Greengrass.”

Daphne said, “Please, call me Daphne.”

Hermione smiled at Daphne, then said, “All of you fourth-year Slytherins except for Miss Parkinson may call me Hermione.”

Pansy muttered, “Like I’d _want_ to be friendly with you.”

Gregory Goyle said to Hermione, “The law-wizard that my Da hired, told me that because Weasley—”

“ _Not_ -Weasley,” Pansy corrected.

“—because Not-Weasley was a Pureblood—”

“A _blood-traitor_ Pureblood,” Pansy corrected again.

“ _Parkinson, shut up!_ ” Goyle yelled. “Anyway, Hermione, the law-wizard told me that for killing the redhead, I coulda been _Kissed_. But because of what you said, they let Crabbe and me go back to Hogwarts after less than an hour. The Aurors said that what I did was just—erm, was just—”

“Justifiable?” Hermione prompted.

Goyle nodded. “So for me and Crabbe, no charges, no trial. I’m glad. A trial in the Wizengamot, in front of my Da, and his friends, and Lord Malfoy? That’d be _scary!_ ”

Daphne said, “Why’d you speak up, Hermione? This is what I can’t figure out. If Malfoy had killed No-Name, then, say, Longbottom and Finnegan had killed Malfoy right afterwards—”

Hermione said, “There was no ‘right afterwards’ this morning. Ron started to cast the AK on Draco. Crabbe and Goyle cursed Ron at the same time that Ron finished his curse on Draco. Crabbe’s curse missed; Goyle’s curse hit. Ron and Draco died in the same second.”

Millicent Bulstrode said, “Thank you for explaining this. We couldn’t see a thing from where we were.”

Blaise Zabini huffed. “But why did you defend two _Slytherins?_ Two Slytherins who went everywhere with _Malfoy?_ ”

Hermione said, “The honest answer? Because I knew that if Harry had been sitting where I’d been sitting and he’d seen what I’d seen, he would’ve spoken up for Crabbe and Goyle. Even if afterwards, everyone else in Gryffindor hexed Harry badly enough to send him to Saint Mungo’s! Harry is all about doing what is _right_ , not what is _easy_ —sometime, I need to tell you how Harry ended the danger in the Chamber of Secrets at the end of second year. Anyway, Harry would’ve spoken up for Crabbe and Goyle, I love Harry, I don’t want ever to disappoint him, so _I_ spoke up for Crabbe and Goyle.”

Daphne said, “How _did_ Harry stop the ‘Heir of Slytherin,’ ‘Chamber of Secrets’ attacks? The professors said only that the attacks had been stopped, not _how_ they’d been stopped.”

Millicent looked down the table at the first- and second-year Slytherins. “Two years ago, that was a scary year! People were getting turned into stone statues, and nobody knew _how_ it was happening, or _when_ it would happen again, or _to whom_. Nobody had any idea how to prevent themselves from turning into statues—even seventh-years felt helpless. At first the other three Houses were blaming _us_ , because the attacks were being made by someone calling himself ‘the Heir of Slytherin.’ ”

“True,” said Hermione, “until the school discovered that Harry was a Parselmouth. Then _voilà_ , it was _Harry_ whom everyone blamed as the Heir of Slytherin. By the way, I was one of the students who was petrified.”

Hermione then told the tale of Harry’s battle to the death against the sixty-foot basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, all to save the life of “the Voldemort-possessed Hogwarts student”—Hermione refused to divulge the student’s name—who was someone whom “Harry barely knew.”

Hermione, in telling Harry’s intrepid tale to the Slytherins, slipped-in the fact that Voldemort’s real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle; Hermione used fire-writing to demonstrate the anagram-trick. The Slytherins quickly noticed that _Riddle_ was not a wizarding-family name; Hermione kept silent as the students in green realised that Voldemort could not be a Pureblood.

Hermione finished her tale this way: “Many of you clearly don’t believe me. If any of you ever see Harry again, ask him to show you his right arm. The scar that the basilisk fang left on his arm is _huge_ , and Harry is alive only because Fawkes the phoenix shed tears on the fang-bite.”

****

Pansy spoke only once more during the meal; Daphne, Millicent and Blaise told Pansy to shut up. Soon Hermione was relaxed enough that she actually was discussing Ancient Runes with Daphne and Blaise.

Hermione then realised _why_ she could eat at the Slytherin table and be relaxed: Without Draco provoking the Gryffindors and stirring up the Slytherins, without Ron insulting the Slytherins and insulting Hermione herself, without Snape’s bullying and blatant favouritism, without Headmaster Dumbledore’s misguided refusal to punish bullies—

For the first time since Hermione had walked into her first Potions class, Hogwarts felt to her like a school, not a war zone.

****

Eventually lunch ended, and all the fourth-years at the Slytherin table stood up to leave. Hermione smiled at Daphne and said, “At dinner tonight, why don’t we reverse this? For dinner, I invite you to eat with us Gryffindors.”

Daphne gave Hermione a quite un-Ice-Queen-ish, genuine smile. “That would be lovely.”

****

**Five hours later  
** **At the beginning of dinnertime, in the Great Hall**

Slytherins who entered the Great Hall usually entered by one set of double doors. Tonight, the Weasley twins stood by those same doors, just inside the Great Hall.

As Slytherins entered, the twins smiled at them and bowed, as if completely unaware that the Green House and the Red House were bitter rivals.

This happened for several minutes, until Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis walked in.

After the twins smiled and bowed towards both girls, the Twinspeak began—

“Miss Greengrass, we are here—”

“—to escort you through the _dangerous_ and _uncharted_ —”

“—Great Hall, to meet and to dine with—”

“—the beautiful and charming genius—”

“—Miss Hermione Granger of New House Granger.”

The twins moved to either side of Daphne and each offered her an elbow. Then the three magical teens began to move.

The twins _marched_ , with knees lifted high and with George calling cadence. The turns that the marching twins made were all crisp right angles.

The Durmstrang students began to clap along with George’s cadence. Quickly the Beauxbatons students added their own clapping, as did Hogwarts students from all four houses.

The twins’ path took the three students to passing in front of the entire High Table. Daphne grinned at the professors, who grinned back. Seconds after they marched past the High Table, the twins made a crisp right turn, and Daphne was marched between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

When the three came alongside both Hermione and an empty space on the bench next to Hermione, George called, “ _DE-tail HALT!_ ”

The twins stopped marching, stomped their feet twice, then stepped sideways away from Daphne. Together the twins saluted the Slytherin beauty, grinning all the while. As Daphne was taking her seat next to Hermione, the twins marched back to the sixth-years part of the Gryffindor table, with George again calling cadence.

During the meal, the fourth-year Gryffindors were perfect hosts to Daphne. Neither Daphne nor Hermione were embarrassed by other Gryffindors, even for a second.

There was a reason for this. Everyone in Gryffindor knew that the twins’ most embarrassing pranks were reserved for “Slytherin gits” and “Gryffindor gits.” Everyone in Gryffindor also knew that the twins highly approved of Harry and Hermione. The twins having made it _quite_ clear, just now, that Hermione’s guest Daphne was not a “Slytherin git,” the twins also had made it just as clear that any Lions who made Hermione frown tonight would be pranked unmercifully. Thus all the Gryffindor fourth-years behaved.

During dinner, Hermione received two letters from Harry. One letter was marked on the outside, _in red_ , “Do not read this aloud.” As Daphne smirked, blushing Hermione shoved this letter into her pocket.

Hermione read Harry’s other letter aloud. Harry described his encounter with Dumbledore in the goblin mine, what Dumbledore looked like, and how Dumbledore acted. (Hermione noticed that Headmistress McGonagall _cringed_ during the letter-reading.) Hermione noticed that Harry did not mention in the letter where he was living, nor how he had travelled from that place to Gringotts in Diagon Alley.

After Hermione read Harry’s letter, Daphne commented, “ ‘Leader of the Light,’ my arse.”

****

**Meanwhile, in a house in Little Whinging, Surrey**

_Normal_ Englishman Vernon Dursley, his _normal_ wife Petunia and _normal_ son Dudley had just sat down to dinner when—

 _Pop_.

—a three-foot-tall creature with giant, pointed ears and billiard-ball-sized eyes appeared by Vernon’s chair. As Petunia screamed, the creature glared at Vernon.

“The Great Harry Potter wrote you a letter,” said the creature. The creature thrust the envelope towards Vernon.

Vernon thundered, “ _What?_ I have no interest in reading anything the _freak_ might write. Now leave this place!”

Vernon, with a sideways wave of his mighty arm, knocked the creature to the kitchen floor.

The creature did not speak a word or make a gesture; but abruptly Vernon’s arms were pulled together so that his arms crossed. Then chains with padlocks appeared, wrapped about those arms. Vernon not only could not discipline the creature again, now Vernon could not even eat his dinner without Petunia’s help.

With Vernon now unable to prevent anything, the creature walked up to Vernon and lay the envelope on Vernon’s blubbery lap. “Have a bad evening,” the creature said.

 _Pop_. The creature disappeared; as did the chains and padlocks that bound Vernon’s arms.

Vernon slid out of his chair whilst holding his nephew’s letter. Vernon intended to bin the letter unopened.

“ _Dad!_ ” said Dudley. “Harry has never written us a letter before. I think—I think you should read it.”

With the request coming from _Dudley_ , not Dudley’s _freaky_ cousin or that cousin’s freaky _creature_ , Vernon opened the envelope and began to read the letter.

An action he soon came to regret.

_Oi, walrus!_

_You know the thousand pounds in notes that you expected to appear in the guest bedroom at the start of the month? I bet you’re wondering why it hasn’t shown up. It’s because Dumbledore now is a prisoner in the goblin mines, he was stealing that money (and a lot more money besides) from my money-vault, and when I found this out, I put a stop to it. Too bad, so sad, I guess you’ll have to make do with only your Grunnings salary now!_

_Let me be honest, fatso. When I found out that a thousand pounds a month was going from my money-vault into your pocket, and you had not ever spent even a farthing of that money on me—for five minutes, I plotted to kill you magically._

_But I decided not to kill you. Aren’t I kind? So other than a thousand pounds a month no longer going into your pocket, you have no worries, right?_

_Not so. Today I talked to a man at Inland Revenue named Ian McManus. Like my mum and like my girlfriend, Mr McManus is a magical person with nonmagical parents. He has both a magical education (he completed all seven years at Hogwarts) and a nonmagical education (he has a degree in accounting from Saint Stephen’s College). My point is, he knows about magic, and I gave him magically-written documentation that shows you being sent £1 000 every month. Then I told Mr McManus, “I’m sure that my uncle never reported this money.” Ten minutes later, Mr McManus told me, “You’re right. He didn’t.”_

_So, uncle, expect to be audited—and by someone who knows exactly what to look for._

_Right now I’m sure you’re thinking that you’ll take the easy approach: threaten Mr McManus that you’ll out him as a “freak” unless he drops the investigation. Or maybe you’ll pack up and run away—to elsewhere in the Isles, to France, or to the States, Canada or Australia._

_You wouldn’t get away. No matter where in the world you fled, once I went looking for you, I’d find you—and furthermore, I’d find you in seconds._

_I mentioned that I decided not to kill you, but I do have the power to see you dead. If I went to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) and told them that you, Vernon, had starved me, beaten me badly enough to break bones, and whipped me, you’d be arrested by magical constables for abuse of a magical child. Then I’d tell them that Aunt Petunia hit me on the head with a frying pan. I’d also tell them about all the beatings I’d received from Dudley. All three of you would be tried in the magical court, and all three of you would be sentenced to Azkaban (the magical prison). What is Azkaban like? Imagine the most horrid of Her Majesty’s prisons, but with Dementors. Dementors are awful creatures that nonmagical people can’t see, and they suck out your soul. If the Dementors are blocked from sucking out your soul, you feel both biting cold and hopeless, joyless clinical depression, for as long as the Dementors are near. Now imagine being near dozens of Dementors, nonstop, for years._

_Unless your sentence in Azkaban is a wrist-slap, life in Azkaban is so harsh that everyone who is sent to Azkaban dies there, and they die years before they would’ve died otherwise. Vernon, I promise you that if you three get put on trial in magical court, I will do my utmost to make sure that you Dursleys’ sentences are not wrist-slaps._

_What am I trying to say? If you don’t try to blackmail Mr McManus and if you don’t try to leave Privet Drive, IF YOU TAKE YOUR MEDICINE, I in turn won’t talk to the DMLE and you won’t be arrested by magical constables. Going to a nonmagical British prison for breaking the tax laws won’t be pleasant for you, Vernon, but maybe Inland Revenue won’t go after Petunia, and I’m sure Inland Revenue won’t bother Dudley at all._

_But if you disregard my warning and you act foolishly, all three of you will die in Azkaban Prison, ten years from now at the latest. Furthermore, after all three of you die, you’ll be buried amongst wizard criminals—I love the irony._

_I’d tell you “Choose wisely,” but honestly, I’m hoping you won’t. Because, fatso, you truly deserve to die—and I won’t shed any tears if my shrew aunt and my whale cousin die too._

_One more thing: I won’t say how much I have in my money-vaults, but I’m richer than you. If you and Aunt Petunia had been nice to me as I grew up, I would have been generous to you two during your retirement years. But no, you two chose treatment of me that was so bad, it was criminal—and so every good thing that the three of you ever have had in your lives, I’m determined to see destroyed._

****

**The next afternoon  
** **Thursday, 3rd November, 1994**

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had a small cemetery in the courtyard, for students or professors who died on school grounds and who had no family. In a thousand years, only five people had been buried there.

Ronald Bilius No-Name became the sixth person buried there, on a cold, grey day.

Headmistress McGonagall transfigured a coffin for Ron, then she officiated at the brief funeral. After Headmistress McGonagall’s funeral service, Professor Flitwick magically buried the coffin in the courtyard.

The only mourners to attend were a few Gryffindor students: the three Weasley children, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and Hermione Granger. No one wept. After Professor Flitwick covered the coffin with dirt and stone, everyone went back inside.


	8. What are the Unspeakables Plotting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever have bought beer with a fake ID during your pimple years, you can relate to this first part.

**Six days later  
** **Wednesday, 9th November, 1994  
** **Fifteen days till the First Task  
** **Knockturn Alley**

Harry Potter was in Knockturn Alley because his escaped-criminal godfather, Sirius Black, wanted a bottle of firewhisky for their family celebration tomorrow.

The Potter house-elves plus Dobby had underestimated how long it would take to repair Potter Manor. Instead of finishing on 8th November as estimated, the house-elves would finish all the repairs to Potter Manor’s roof, walls and interior tomorrow, 10th November.

Tomorrow the head goblin warder, Deathbite, would magically travel to Potter Manor, he and Harry would do five minutes of some kind of work together with the new master wardstone, then Potter Manor would have a Fidelius Charm and wards again—for the first time in fifteen years.

Tomorrow Harry would permanently remove into Potter Manor; tomorrow Harry would make Potter Manor his home for the rest of his life. Also tomorrow, Sirius would remove into Potter Manor with Harry, till Sirius cleared his name.

Sirius actually was more excited about tomorrow than Harry was. Harry had never seen Potter Manor until Halloween night; he was certain that he had never been in Potter Manor as a baby. Sirius, on the other hand, had spent some of his Christmas hols and summer hols as a Hogwarts student at Potter Manor; Fleamont and Dorea Potter had all but adopted Sirius as James’ full brother and their own son. Sirius had brought “Amy, the finest bird at Hogwarts” to Potter Manor, he told Harry, and everyone concerned had treated the visits with the _gravitas_ of Amy meeting her boyfriend’s true family.

To Harry today, honestly it was a coin-flip whether he would prefer to spend tomorrow night in the blue-and-silver bedroom in Dumbledore House or in the master bedroom at Potter Manor; such was not so with Sirius. Sirius would “a hundred times prefer to sleep in Potter Manor, even in a broom closet, to staying in the grandest bedroom in” the Black ancestral house, which apparently was somewhere in London.

Sirius wanted a bottle of firewhisky for tomorrow. But Sirius _officially_ was still a mass-murderer and escaped convict, so he risked arrest if he tried to buy the bottle of firewhisky himself. Thus it fell to Harry, a fourteen-year-old boy under a glamour, to purchase the amber liquid.

****

A wizard or witch could glamour his or her own face and body, but he or she could not glamour a wand (his or her own wand, or someone else’s).

So in theory, to prevent underage drinking, magical liquor stores were supposed to perform two checks on each customer’s wand: 1) check for the Trace; and 2) check whether the customer’s true name, as identified by a blood test, matched the name associated with the wand being presented.

But magicals rightly worried about their blood being taken by other magicals, so this part of the law was allowed to be ignored. Only the Trace-check remained, as a way to stop Hogwarts-age magicals from buying liquor.

Now glamoured Harry put the firewhisky and the required seven galleons on the counter, drew his wand, and the liquor-store clerk checked the wand. As Harry expected, the clerk found no Trace on the wand that Harry held up—mainly because it had been over two hundred years since Haroldus Cyrus Potter had been under seventeen.

****

**A little later**

Harry’s glamour was that of a man in his twenties with chocolate-brown eyes, a brown, curly chin-beard and bushy brown hair—what Hermione’s older brother might have looked like. The disguise was good enough that the liquor-store clerk had given no more than a glance to the youth who was in fact the Boy Who Lived.

Knockturn Alley was uncrowded now, because most evil magical adults were at work at the moment, and all evil magical children were in school. Harry decided to see if Diagon Alley was just as uncrowded—some window shopping would be fun.

Harry was thinking about what flavour of ice cream to buy when he walked out of Knockturn Alley, into Diagon Alley.

****

**An instant later**

“ _Homorphus!_ ” a wizard’s voice yelled. Harry, caught by surprise, failed to dodge the spell that was fired at him.

The spell hit. Harry felt his Hermione’s-big-brother glamour drop; Harry stood revealed as the fourteen-year-old Boy Who Lived.

Harry yanked Haroldus Potter’s wand from his forearm-holster, in case his attacker was a Death Eater, as Harry looked about. The source of the Homorphus spell was a tough-looking Auror with short, wiry hair, who was standing in Diagon Alley with his feet shoulder-width apart.

“ _HARRY POTTER!_ ” the Auror yelled. “Return to Hogwarts right now, or face arrest!”

“Arrest for _what?_ ” Harry yelled back. “I haven’t _done_ anything!”

“Arrest for _truancy_. Unless you let me escort you back to Hogwarts right now.”

“Not happening, Auror. There’s a murder plot back at Hogwarts that is hoping some _lackey_ will drag me back there.”

“You’re under arrest for truancy, Harry Potter. Will you”—the Auror shot a red Stunner at Harry—“come quietly?”

As Harry dodged the Stunner, he yelled back, “What are you _doing?_ Somebody is trying—”

The Auror shot another red Stunner at Harry.

“—to kill me at Hogwarts!”

The Auror replied, “I don’t”—he shot another Stunner—“believe you.”

 _Oh, shit!_ Harry thought. In sidestepping the Auror’s next-to-last Stun spell, Harry had put himself directly in the path of the Auror’s last Stun spell. Harry was one second away from being Stunned—and presumably being arrested, immediately afterwards.

“ _Dobby!_ ” Harry yelled.

Then the Stun spell hit, and Harry’s world went black.

Harry awoke in the blue-and-silver bedroom of Dumbledore House. Harry discovered that he was lying atop the bed, fully clothed, with the undamaged bottle of firewhisky set on a side table. Dobby was standing on the bed and was looking down at Harry from his three-foot height.

Dobby said, “Dobby did not hurt the nasty law man. Dobby wanted to hurt the law man, but did not. Did Dobby do right?”

Harry grinned. “Yes, Dobby, you did right.” Dobby’s green-tinged face turned greener. Harry added, “Though if I’m honest, I want to hurt the law man too, but I won’t.”

Harry, frustrated, slapped the bed. “God save me from _idiots_ with badges and blue wands!”

****

Auror John Dawlish likewise was frustrated. “Mad-Eye” Moody himself had tasked Dawlish with apprehending Harry Potter and with bringing the boy back to Hogwarts. But the boy had escaped Dawlish, without ever firing his own wand.

 _Outsmarted by a fourteen-year-old boy!_ Dawlish snarled in his head. Well, the next time Dawlish ran into the brat, Dawlish would not _go so easy_ on him.

****

**Two days later  
** **Friday, 11th November, 1994, 8 a.m.  
** **Thirteen days till the First Task  
** **Azkaban Prison**

Augustus Rookwood, a convicted Death Eater and former Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, was _Avada Kedavra_ ’d in his cell.

There were no witnesses. The Aurors never figured out how the murder had happened, much less who had done it.

The Aurors would never learn this, but the murderous wand originally had belonged to Solomon Croaker (died 1921).

****

**An hour later, at Potter Manor**

Sirius received an odd owl-message from the Department of Mysteries—

At the Black ancestral home in London was an item of the darkest magic that was connected to You-Know-Who. Would Sirius, Lord Black (Presumptive), please open up the house and give permission for the evil item to be removed by Unspeakables?

This message was how Sirius learnt that 1) Arcturus, Lord Black, had not disinherited Sirius as Walburga Black always had threatened, but 2) instead had named Sirius to be Heir Black, then 3) had died.

After receiving the owl-message, Sirius and Harry made an elf- _pop_ dash to Gringotts. Sirius and Harry heard the reading of Arcturus Black’s will; and Sirius, still in shock, claimed the Lord Black ring. Then it was _Harry_ who went into shock when Sirius named Harry, Lord Potter, to also be Heir Black.

Harry asked, “Not that I’m complaining, but—why me?”

Sirius scowled. “Because if I’d died after my grandfather had died but before I’d named an Heir, the next Lord Black would have been Narcissa’s boy. Just imagine the disaster of Draco Malfoy, the future Lord Malfoy, also being Lord Black.”

Harry made a face as if he had been obliged to drink ten nasty-tasting potions, one after the other.

****

On the steps of Gringotts, Sirius summoned a house-elf named Kreacher. To Harry, Kreacher was the dictionary definition of a “bad elf”: surly, and openly insulting his master Sirius with a Draco-written blood-purity script. Worse, when Sirius ordered the elf, “Take us to outside Grimmauld Place,” it was a full five seconds before Kreacher snapped his fingers in obedience.

Sirius and Harry were elf- _pop_ ped to the kerb of a street in London; across the street was a row of townhouses. Grinning Sirius asked Harry, “Notice something odd about the house-numbering?”

Once Sirius asked the question, it didn’t take Harry long to spot the oddity: “The numbering is fine till Number 11, then it skips to 13.”

Sirius said, “Good eye. Listen carefully, Harry: _The Black-family ancestral home is at Number 12, Grimmauld Place_.”

Harry watched in amazement as Number 11 and Number 13 moved apart from each other, and another townhouse formed between them. Alas, the paint on Number 12 was much more faded than was the paint on Number 11 and Number 13.

****

If Harry found the outside of Number 12, Grimmauld Place to be disappointing, he found the inside of the place to be out-and-out disgusting. Of course, Harry’s bad attitude perhaps was because no sooner had he stepped into the house, a painting of Sirius’s mother started to insult both Harry _and_ Sirius— _loudly_.

Sirius tried to vanish the painting—even as Lord Black, he had no luck. Sirius managed only to silence the painting.

Sirius summoned Kreacher. “Kreacher, get rid of that painting!” Sirius thundered.

“I’m _so sorry_ , blood-traitor master,” Kreacher said, not bothering to hide his smirk. “The painting is attached to the wall with a permanent sticking charm. I _regret_ that I cannot fulfill your command.”

Harry and unhappy Sirius then explored the rest of the townhouse—and Sirius became even unhappier—

Dust was everywhere. The place had enough cobwebs to make an Acromantula envious. The cold-box in the kitchen had a bad smell. Doxies were in the curtains, and a boggart was wandering the second floor. Harry wondered, _How could Kreacher let things get this bad?_

Sirius was thinking something similar; he spoke a long, angry denunciation of Kreacher. Apparently Sirius and Kreacher had hated each other since before Sirius’s Hogwarts years.

Harry said, “I think I have a solution. Call Kreacher.”

Five elf-less seconds passed after Sirius called for Kreacher, then Kreacher finally elf- _pop_ ped into the room. Kreacher’s next words were, “Blood-traitor disgrace-to-family master interrupts Kreacher’s work?”

“ ‘ _Work?_ ’ Sirius snarled. “You’ve done nothing but sit on your arse since my grandfather died!”

Harry held up a hand, in order to silence Sirius. “Dobby, Greyclay, Beekeeper, come here, please.” _P-p-pop_.

Harry said to the three newly arrived house-elves, “Dobby, Greyclay, Beekeeper, this is Kreacher; he’s in charge of keeping this place clean. You three, take five minutes to look about, then rejoin me.”

Five minutes later, Dobby, Greyclay and Beekeeper again were standing in front of Harry. Kreacher no longer looked smug; the ancient house-elf instead looked _frightened to death_. Perhaps because all three Harry-summoned house-elves were shooting Kreacher _murderous_ looks.

Harry said to Greyclay, “Please summon the rest of the Potter Manor elves; they’ll want to be part of this.” _P-p-pop_. Now Kreacher was outnumbered, six to one, by Harry-summoned house-elves.

Harry had learnt by then that the house-elves had no interest in being paid money; but if Harry injected magic into a house-elf the same as he might inject magic into a wardstone, his house-elves thought this to be a brilliant reward. So Harry offered a magic-injection hug to the house-elf who removed Walburga Black’s portrait from the wall. The portrait was off the wall ten minutes later, and a Potter Manor house-elf named Glaze grinned as she received Harry’s reward.

Once the Walburga Black portrait was off the wall, Harry expected Sirius to vanish it. Instead, Sirius tossed the silenced portrait into the Floo fireplace and watched it burn.

Harry’s elves, during their cleanup, found a Salazar Slytherin-made locket with a piece of Voldemort’s soul attached. A quick owl-message exchange between Sirius and the Department of Mysteries determined that this locket was “the item of the darkest magic that was connected to You-Know-Who” that the DOM was interested in. Greyclay, whilst wearing dragonhide gloves, delivered the locket to the Department of Mysteries.

Harry had realised that the Grimmauld Place townhouse was filthy. He did not realise _how_ filthy the place was until he discovered that it took seven house-elves—Harry’s six house-elves had shamed Kreacher into working—two entire hours to clean the townhouse from top to bottom, and to clean and paint the townhouse’s exterior.

Sometime during these two hours of house-elf cleaning, so Sirius told Harry, a disgusting display of house-elf heads disappeared. The display of house-elf heads had been in the townhouse for as long as Sirius could remember.

When Grimmauld Place was sparkling clean, Greyclay and Beekeeper elf- _pop_ ped to either side of startled Kreacher, and they each grabbed one of the old house-elf’s arms. Greyclay said, “Greyclay and Beekeeper need to talk to bad elf Kreacher about neglect of duties.” Then— _pop!_ —all three house-elves disappeared.

Ten minutes later, Greyclay and Beekeeper asked Sirius to bond with a free teenager-elf named Folly. Surprised Sirius made the bond.

Kreacher never was seen again, and did not respond to Sirius’s calls.

****

Ten minutes later, another owl-message from the Department of Mysteries asked whether Sirius, as Lord Black, would give permission for Unspeakables to enter the Gringotts vault of Bellatrix Lestrange. It seemed that another “item” was in Bellatrix’s vault.

Sirius wrote out the requested permission; but then he added a sentence: “I, Lord Black, was not aware that Bellatrix’s vault had a horcruxed item till just now, when the Department of Mysteries so informed me.”

Sirius explained to Harry: “It’s against Gringotts rules to store a ‘dangerous’ item in a vault. Bellatrix maybe will get her entire vault seized if there’s a horcruxed thing in her vault. I’m fine with this—every galleon that Bella _can’t_ spend is a galleon that You-Know-Who _can’t_ be given, when/if he comes back. But I sure as hell don’t want the goblins seizing _my_ vaults—which they would, if they thought that Lord Black had known about the horcrux but had let Bella slide.”

****

**The same day, in Hogwarts SOW &W**

In contrast to all the rigmarole that was involved in destroying the horcruxes at Grimmauld Place and in Bellatrix Lestrange’s Gringotts vault, the horcrux-removal for Hogwarts was simple.

The Department of Mysteries sent Headmistress McGonagall an owl-message that said, “In Hogwarts is another item that is a horcrux of You-Know-Who. May we remove it?”

McGonagall gave permission, and two Unspeakables Flooed in; one of them was wearing dragonhide gloves, whilst the other was carrying a lead box.

The two Unspeakables went up to the seventh floor—then disappeared. Half an hour later, the two Unspeakables returned to McGonagall’s office, spoke briefly with the headmistress, then Flooed away. The one Unspeakable with the dragonhide gloves had removed them, but the other Unspeakable still was carrying the lead box, whilst acting as though he was doing something important.

****

**That afternoon, in Potter Manor**

Another owl-message from the Department of Mysteries told Harry that there was a prophecy about him in the Hall of Prophecies; Harry was invited to hear the prophecy for himself.

Harry went to the Hall of Prophecies minutes later; he took Sirius with him. The Director of the Department of Mysteries, Saul Croaker, personally escorted Harry and Sirius to the relevant prophecy orb.

Harry was not surprised when he heard the prophecy. He and Sirius quickly figured out that Voldemort already knew some of the prophecy, judging by the Dark Lord’s actions.

 _But why take chances?_ Harry held the prophecy orb high above his head and “accidentally” dropped it, shattering the glass sphere.

Unspeakable Croaker did not rebuke Harry for destroying the prophecy; instead, he nodded. Then he said to Harry, “The reason I invited you to hear the prophecy, relates to the Dark Lord’s horcruxes. When your name came out of the Goblet of Fire, the Dark Lord had six active horcruxes; now he has only two, and those two are geographically close to each other.”

Then Croaker added casually, “One of the horcruxes is quite close to the Dark Lord Voldemort.”

Sirius said, “You-Know-Who is _alive?_ ”

Harry said, “You _know_ where Voldemort is? Why haven’t you killed him?”

Croaker looked at Harry and said, “Ah, now we come to the _real_ reason I asked you to come here.”

Croaker, Harry and Sirius talked for another fifteen minutes.

****

**Twelve days later  
** **Wednesday, 23rd November, 1994, 9 a.m.  
** **Twenty-nine hours till the First Task  
** **Office of the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement**

Amelia Bones was surprised when again the unforgettable snowy owl flew to her with a letter. Harry Potter again had written to the Director of the DMLE—

“Tomorrow my name shall be called in the Triwizard Tournament, to go out and battle a dragon. (Don’t tell anyone about the dragon—this part of the First Task is supposed to be a secret.) Anyway, my plans tomorrow are the same as they were on the night my name was announced: _When they call my name tomorrow, I will undeniably forfeit_.”

Harry had more to say, of course. One sentence that Harry wrote, had Amelia staring at the boy’s written words with her heart racing.

Originally Amelia had assigned only John Dawlish and a few other Aurors to be in the spectator stands tomorrow; and honestly, those few Aurors were assigned there only to soothe the egos of Minister Fudge and the other dignitaries.

But now those plans were scrapped. Amelia began making new plans and was writing new Auror assignments. Also, Amelia began planning what she would wear to the First Task tomor—

Amelia’s plans were scrapped _again_ when Saul Croaker walked into Amelia’s office and told her things, about which she had been completely unaware.

When Croaker finished speaking, Amelia asked, “Harry Potter _must be_ in the middle of this mad mission?”

“Yes,” Croaker replied.

Amelia said, “I don’t know about _him_ , but if it were _me_ , I’d rather battle the big dragon.”

****

**11½ hours later  
** **Wednesday, 23rd November, 1994, 8:30 p.m.  
** **17½ hours till the First Task  
** **Gringotts UK’s iron-mine prisoner-miner barracks**

Prisoner Dumbledore smiled at Harry as if he were still headmaster and Harry were still a firstie. “Harry, my boy—”

Harry said coolly, “Prisoner Dumbledore, let’s skip the small talk. What do you wish to tell me?”

Dumbledore gestured to the eavesdroppers—three goblin guards, who each was carrying a sharp axe and was standing only a few feet away; and ten prisoner-miners, who each was sitting on his or her slim bed. Dumbledore said, “Before we begin, I must insist that you use your clout with the goblins to give the two of us _privacy_. What I have to say would be _dangerous_ if heard by the _wrong ears_.”

Harry, hearing Dumbledore’s words, _laughed_ , quite scornfully.

Then Harry said, “I have no idea how much clout I have with the goblins, but I’m not putting my clout to the test. Whatever you have to tell me, tell me in front of these three goblins and your _thief friends_ in this barracks, or I leave now.”

Molly Weasley glared at Harry when he called her one of Dumbledore’s “thief friends.” Harry gave her an _I don’t care if you’re angry_ smile.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was giving Harry his _I’m so disappointed in you_ look. “Harry, don’t be a child! What I’m about to tell you is a _dangerous secret_ , and I must insist that you do your part to _keep_ it a secret. Starting with, ensure no one else can overhear when I tell you the secret. Have the guards give you and me _privacy_.”

“Nope. Not happening.”

“Harry, I must insist—”

“You’re pushing for _me_ to be alone with _you?_ First of all, that’s a _privilege_ that prisoners here are never given, _Prisoner_ Dumbledore. Secondly, I won’t put myself alone with _you_ unless I were feeling _suicidal_ , which I most definitely am _not_.”

Harry looked at Molly and added, “My girlfriend Hermione and I are _quite_ close, and I have _much_ to live for.”

Dumbledore yelled, “Then put up a Silencing Charm, so nobody but you can hear what I’m about to say!”

“Answer’s still no.”

“Why not?” Dumbledore demanded, in a _You’d best have a top-notch explanation, young man, or you’re getting detention_ tone of voice.

But Harry was not in the mood to play _misbehaving student in the headmaster’s office_. Instead, Harry glared at Prisoner Dumbledore and answered—

“Because keeping secrets is a _power play_ with you. How do I know this? Because _everything_ is a power play with you. Sending Riddle back to Wool’s Orphanage when he hated it there, and sending me back to the Dursleys—both were power plays. Your quote-unquote reasons at the time don’t matter now, because they were lies. _Why_ you sent us back was to impress on two orphan boys, ‘Look how powerful I am! I can make you miserable, and you have to take it.’ ”

“Harry—”

“But the power plays _stop_ now, _Prisoner_ Dumbledore. Whatever you have to tell me today, you’ll say in front of the other thieves and the goblin guards. And if the worst happens, if the thieves or the goblins chatter, it’s still your fault, because you didn’t tell me these ‘secrets’ in private, _months or years ago_ , when I still trusted you!”

****

Soon Dumbledore convinced himself to share his “dangerous secrets” with Harry (and with the goblin guards, and with the other prisoner-miners). Harry was unimpressed.

Harry rolled his eyes as he thought, _Tommy made six horcruxes intentionally. I destroyed one. The Unspeakables found three more and destroyed them. The Unspeakables showed me on a map where the other two horcruxes are. I like the Unspeakables—they do their job like they’re supposed to, and dealing with them is simple and clear-cut. But Mr “Leader of the Light” knows little about horcruxes, and insists I play his silly games before he’ll share what little he knows. Pathetic._

Aloud, Harry said to Dumbledore, “So after all the song and dance, the truth is, you don’t know how many horcruxes Voldemort made.”

“ _Shhh!_ ”

“How many horcruxes have you sought out and found?”

“Harry, the demands on my time—”

“So _zero_ horcruxes found by you. Got it.”

Silence.

“Can you tell me what the horcruxes look like?”

Silence.

Harry repeated, “Do you know what the horcruxes look like? _Yes_ or _no_.”

Dumbledore said lowly, “No. I don’t know what the horcruxes look like.”

“Or where they are?”

Dumbledore said, “Harry, my boy, I know where _one_ of the horcruxes is. I am _so sorr_ y.” He looked meaningfully at Harry’s bangs-covered forehead.

Harry used his hand as a comb, to move his bangs up and back. “Your information is out of date,” he said. “Hermione says the scar barely can be seen now.”

Dumbledore stared, shocked, at Harry’s forehead. “ _Harry, why did you remove the horcrux from your scar?_ ”

Harry snapped, “A better question to ask is, ‘Why should I listen to anyone who tells me to keep it in?’ Congratulations, you’ve just _tripled_ my distrust of you. I’m gone, ‘Leader of the Light.’ ”

Harry made eye-contact with the goblin guards, then jerked his thumb in the general direction of the mine elevator. Dumbledore was left sputtering as Harry and the three goblins hurried out of the prisoner-miners barracks.

****

**The next morning  
** **Thursday, 24th November, 1994, 8 a.m.  
** **Six hours till the First Task  
** **The Great Hall of Hogwarts**

Two minutes after Hermione was owl-posted a letter from Harry, Hermione stood up and _Sonorus_ -amplified her voice. Hermione did not read aloud the “I love you” part of Harry’s letter (which went on for a full page), but she _did_ read aloud, to the entire Great Hall, the part of Harry’s letter that he had asked her to read aloud—

_If you’re a Gryffindor, don’t root for me tomorrow—I won’t be there. Root for Cedric Diggory, the_ true _Hogwarts champion. If my would-be murderer is listening, tell him that I still plan_ not _to walk into his trap._

 _You people listening probably don’t remember this, but when my name came out of the Goblet, I several times stated that I didn’t put my name in as a possible Champion, and I also gave an Oath. Here is the Oath: “I swear on my magic and my life that I did not put my name in the Goblet, I did not ask someone of-age to put my name in for me, and I do not know, and cannot guess, how my name was put in. May Magic judge my words.” A law-wizard I talked to, says the effects of that Oath are more than merely proving I didn’t lie about the Goblet. Anyway, tomorrow should be_ exciting! _If worst comes to worst and I lose my magic—well, Hermione still loves me, and losing my magic is mere inconvenience. But I don’t think, and the law-wizard doesn’t think, that I losing my magic is what will happen. Instead, I think some people will be hit with_ big surprises _tomorrow!_

****

As Hermione Granger read Harry’s letter aloud, all eyes were on her. Nobody was looking at the High Table, and nobody was looking at the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at the High Table.

So nobody noticed that the man whom everyone believed was Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, was scowling.

****

**Thursday, 24th November, 1994, 2 p.m.**  
**In the Forbidden Forest, near HSOW &W  
** **The First Task of the Triwizard Tournament**

Cedric Diggory was the first Champion to face a nesting mother dragon and to try to steal a fake, golden egg out of the dragon’s nest. He used a Transfiguration trick (he changed a rock into a dog). He retrieved the golden egg, but the mother Swedish Short-Snout burnt his face.

Fleur Delacour, the second Champion, faced a Common Welsh Green dragon. Fleur charmed the dragon to sleep; but the sleeping dragon set Fleur’s skirt afire. Fleur put out the fire and retrieved her egg.

Viktor Krum cast a blinding curse on his Chinese Fireball dragon. Viktor was not injured, nor was his clothing burnt, and Viktor also claimed his golden egg. However, Viktor lost points when the dragon stumbled about and smashed half of the genuine dragon eggs.

Then the Chinese Fireball and her (remaining) eggs were removed from the arena. The dragon-wranglers brought in the largest dragon eggs that Hermione had seen today, then the fake golden egg was placed amongst the genuine dragon eggs. Finally, the fourth dragon was brought in, asleep.

Hermione saw that this dragon was the biggest of the four, and this dragon had the most fearsome body armour of the four. “ _Merlin_ , that’s a _Hungarian Horntail!_ ” Hermione heard someone exclaim.

The fourth dragon was awakened. Then Ludo Bagman’s amplified voice called out: “ _Our fourth champion: Harry Potter!_ ”

Hermione held her breath.


	9. Magic is Lost

**Thursday, 24th November, 1994, 2 p.m.**  
**In the Forbidden Forest, near HSOW &W  
** **The First Task of the Triwizard Tournament**

The spectators watched the Hungarian Horntail dragon, the genuine dragon eggs, and the fake golden egg all be brought into the arena. Whilst the spectators watched the preparations that were being made for the First Task of the fourth Champion, Amelia Bones watched the spectators.

Around the transfigured arena were the judges’ stand, the VIP seating, and the regular spectator-seating that was marked off by schools and by Hogwarts Houses. _Of course_ Minister Cornelius Fudge sat in the VIP seating; on his right was Lucius Malfoy; on Fudge’s left was the Pink Toad (a.k.a. Senior Undersecretary Delores Umbridge).

Oddly, whilst _Lucius_ Malfoy was sitting next to Fudge, _Narcissa_ Malfoy was sitting amongst the Slytherin spectators. Narcissa was talking with Opal Greengrass, whilst Narcissa _pointedly_ ignored Peter and Pansy Parkinson. Severus Snape also was sitting amongst the Slytherins—but he sat in the top row in the back, by the stairs, making it _quite_ clear that he did not want company.

A Gryffindor boy who had both a camera and _way_ too much energy, was taking pictures of everybody and everything.

In the Hufflepuff section, Hannah Abbott and Amelia’s niece Susan energetically waved to Amelia as they both smiled. Amelia only nodded, instead of waving back, because she was on duty.

Watching over the crowd of spectators, VIPs and judges were ten Aurors, amongst whom were Shacklebolt, Dawlish, Tonks, and retired Master Auror “Mad-Eye” Moody. Oddly to Amelia, in the audience was a hooded Unspeakable, who was standing close to the announcer, Ludo Bagman.

Amelia was not dressed like an Auror; she was wearing dress robes. Still, she had her “Director of the DMLE” badge pinned to those dress robes, and Amelia held in her hand the blue wand that she had been issued when she had graduated from the Auror Academy.

Hopefully without being obvious about it, Amelia looked everywhere amongst the spectators for Harry Potter and Sirius Black. She did not see them.

Meanwhile in the arena, a redheaded dragon-wrangler hit the dragon with an overpowered _Rennervate_ spell, then the dragon-wrangler looked up at the judges’ stand and made a thumb-up gesture. The dragon-wranglers all hurried out of the arena.

Ludo Bagman’s amplified voice called out: “ _Our fourth champion: Harry Potter!_ ”

The spectators instantly went silent. Amelia was the only person _not_ to turn her eyes to the Champions’ tent.

****

Silence.

Seconds passed.

Amelia heard scornful laughter from some Slytherin spectators, though neither Narcissa nor Opal were laughing.

 _Pop_. Amelia recognised the sound of elf-travel, but could not tell from where the sound had come.

“ _Harry Potter, are you here?_ ” Ludo Bagman asked.

“ _Yes, but I refuse to take part!_ ” a boy’s voice yelled, from the top (rear) of the Gryffindor stands.

Amelia heard gasps from every section of spectators.

“ _Harry!_ ” bushy-haired Miss Granger shouted in the Gryffindor section, as the girl stood up. She began to move sideways, towards the stairs.

“ _Potter, you are under arrest!_ ” someone yelled. Amelia spun around and identified Harry Potter’s would-be arrestor as John Dawlish.

Amelia saw a flash of red. “Mad-Eye” Moody had just fired a voiceless Stun spell at Harry Potter!

Amelia wondered, _What in the hell is going on?_

As Amelia ran up the stairs to protect Harry Potter, she yelled, “Dawlish, _stand down!_ ‘Mad-Eye,’ _stand down!_ ”

At Amelia’s voice, Dawlish stopped moving on the stairs. Miss Granger shoved Dawlish aside, into some Ravenclaw students, and continued to race up the stairs. Amelia herself continued to race up those same stairs, but Amelia had a farther climb to make.

“Mad-Eye” still was trying to Stun Harry Potter. _Why?_

Amelia heard the distorted voice of the Unspeakable say to Bagman, “Declare that Potter is in forfeit. Make it official.”

“ _No-o-o!_ ” Bagman said. Amelia had heard the rumours about Ludo Bagman having a gambling addiction, and Amelia figured that Bagman stood to lose _big_ money if he declared Potter in forfeit.

By now, Amelia, Miss Granger and a house-elf were shielding Harry Potter and a giant black dog from Mad-Eye’s Stun-spells. Amelia and Miss Granger also were shooting Stunners back at “Mad-Eye,” but he kept dodging those Stunners. The strange thing was, the wooden-legged retired Auror was yelling, “Potter, if you won’t _come down_ to the arena on your own, I’ll _put you_ in the arena!”—whilst the old man continued to fire Stun-spells at Harry.

Ninety-nine percent of Amelia’s attention was on blocking Mad-Eye’s spells. But a little part of Amelia’s brain noticed that a brown rat was lying on the ground in front of the Gryffindor section of the spectator stands, out in the open, and the brown rat was watching the spells-fight between Mad-Eye and Harry’s defenders. Amelia realised, _That’s quite unusual behaviour for a rat_ , but Amelia could not take time to dwell on the thought.

The Unspeakable said to Bagman, “Harry Potter is in forfeit. _Say it!_ ”

Seconds passed, then Ludo Bagman said in a flat voice, “Harry Potter, your time is up. You have forfeited the First Task.”

An instant later, the screaming started.

****

Amelia saw “Mad-Eye” drop his wand and fall down. He began screaming and thrashing about.

Delores Umbridge, Lucius Malfoy and Ivan Karkaroff began screaming too. In the Slytherin section, Peter Parkinson and Severus Snape also were screaming.

On the field, the brown rat was twisting, rolling about—and _growing?_

Mad-Eye’s writhing, screaming body expelled both his magical eye and his wooden leg. The missing part of his leg grew out. His face filled-in both his missing eye and the missing part of his nose. Mad-Eye’s head grew hair, his scars disappeared, and his screaming face turned younger.

Meanwhile, the brown rat had turned into a chubby (and screaming) man.

“Pettigrew!” Harry snarled, behind Amelia.

The big dog growled.

****

**A minute later**

Cedric, Fleur, Viktor and Madam Pomfrey all had come out of the medical tent and were staring at the spectators in wonder.

The screamers had quit screaming. They also had quit transforming, thrashing and _breathing_.

****

**Meanwhile, in Azkaban Prison**

All the Death Eater prisoners were dead. Bellatrix Lestrange had died _not_ in battle, but alone behind bars, screaming whilst Dementors in the corridor looked at each other in confusion.

****

**Meanwhile, back in the spectator stands for the First Task**

The Unspeakable walked up to the terrified Minister of Magic, who was sitting between two corpses. “What happened?” Fudge asked, in a frightened voice.

“What do you _think_ happened?” the Unspeakable sarcastically replied. He/she pointed his/her wand at Umbridge’s left arm. “ _Diffindo_.” The Unspeakable shucked off the pink-cardigan sleeve, leaving the corpse’s left arm bare.

“ _Isn’t this a surprise_ ,” the Unspeakable said, loudly enough for all to hear. “ _The Pink Toad has the Dark Mark_.”

Seconds later, the Unspeakable had similarly denuded dead Lucius Malfoy’s left arm. Malfoy also had died with the Dark Mark on his left forearm—this, too, the Unspeakable announced to the crowd, and just as loudly.

“He’s not a _real_ Death Eater,” Fudge blustered. “Malfoy was Imperiused.”

“Oh, really?” the Unspeakable said. “If someone could be Imperiused into taking the Dark Mark, wouldn’t _you_ have it?”

Fudge was trying to stammer out a reply when the Gryffindor boy with the camera ran up and snapped a photo—of Fudge sitting between two Dark Mark-marked corpses.

****

**Meanwhile, in the back of the Gryffindor section of spectators**

Amelia saw Miss Granger swat Harry’s arm. “Harry, what are you doing here? It was _dangerous_ for you to come here!”

Harry said, “I haven’t seen you in 3½ weeks, ’Mione. I’ve _missed_ you.”

The two teenagers lunged towards each other, then snogged, as if the Director of the DMLE wasn’t standing two feet away. The big black dog wagged its tail.

When the teens finally broke the kiss, Amelia made a show of looking at the dog, then looking at Harry. “When I was a seventh-year ’Puff, I dated a sixth-year Gryffindor who was a confirmed prankster. Anyway, he used to own a big black dog that looked _just like_ this dog. The odd thing was, I never saw my boyfriend and the dog in the same place at the same time. _Merlin_ , I miss him.”

Harry asked, “You miss your boyfriend?”

“No, I miss the dog,” replied Amelia. She looked at the dog and said, grinning, “My boyfriend never could be _serious_.”

The dog licked Amelia’s hand, as Harry groaned. Miss Granger shot Harry a puzzled look: _Why are you groaning?_

The Unspeakable walked up to the small group. In its maybe-male, maybe-female voice, the Unspeakable asked Harry, “Lord Potter, do you still have your magic?”

Harry laughed. “I don’t know. Shall we find out?”

****

**One second later**

Hermione’s jaw dropped when Harry drew a wand. Hermione blurted out, “How do you have a wand? You _snapped_ your wand in the Great Hall—I saw the pieces hit the floor!”

Harry grinned mischievously. “I snapped my _Harry James Potter_ wand, yes. This wand belonged to _Haroldus Cyrus Potter_ , my great-times-ten grandfather.”

“Is that even legal?” Hermione asked.

Both Madam Bones and the Unspeakable replied, “ _Yes_.”

Then the Unspeakable prompted, “Lord Potter, your magic? We have a schedule to keep.”

Hermione said, “ _Lord_ Potter?”

“ _Ahem_ ,” said the Unspeakable.

Harry grinned at Hermione. “What’s that Muggle saying? ‘Go big or go home.’ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The stag-patronus was fully corporeal as it galloped over the heads of the Gryffindors. The Gryffindors clapped; the Weasley twins _stood up_ and clapped. Over outside the medical tent, Madam Pomfrey and the three true Champions also were applauding Harry’s stag-patronus.

Seeing Harry’s superb patronus, the Slytherins sulked.

The Unspeakable said to Harry, “That was brilliant. Are you ready to go?”

“ _Go?_ ” said Hermione. “Go _where?_ ”

Harry shrugged. “To go kill Voldemort. If he isn’t already dead, he’s magicless—now is as good a time as any to put him down.”

“Oh, Harry, why do _you_ have to kill him?”

He shrugged. “Because there’s a prophecy, which says only _I_ can kill him. Otherwise, I’d leave the work to Madam Bones and her _excellent_ Aurors. Well, except for the bloke who keeps trying to _arrest_ me— _he_ isn’t excellent at all.”

The Unspeakable grabbed Harry’s arm, loosely, and said, “Shall we go?”

Madam Bones said, “You go on, I’ll keep an eye on ‘Snuffles.’ Even though he looks like the sort of dog that’ll _hump my leg_.”

The dog barked.

Harry said, “If Snuffles does this, neuter him.”

The dog whined.

“Thanks for watching ‘Snuffles,’ _Amy_ ,” Harry said to Madam Bones. Hermione huffed.

“ _Now?_ ” the Unspeakable asked.

Harry said, “We can’t leave yet, we need _proof_ that Voldy is dead after we kill him. _Colin Creevy, you and your camera get up here!_ ”

****

**Later**

In the Gaunt shack, the Unspeakables found and destroyed a horcrux that looked like a ring. In the process of neutralising this horcrux, one Unspeakable caught a Withering Curse, and would die in a few months’ time. To Harry’s (and Colin’s) amazement, the Unspeakables considered this to be “acceptable losses” if it would stop Voldemort.

At Riddle Manor, one Unspeakable was killed by venom in the process of killing a giant snake that also was a horcrux. Again, the Unspeakables shrugged off the death of one of their own as “acceptable losses.”

Voldemort—so the Unspeakables, Harry and Colin discovered—was in the same room as the big snake. Voldemort was trying (and failing) to kill the Unspeakables, Harry and Colin, whilst the Unspeakables were trying to kill the big snake.

It turned out that the snake was a hundred times more dangerous than the demagicked Dark Lord.

Voldemort’s first response to the Unspeakables, to Harry and to Colin, when they stepped into his room, was to point his yew-and-phoenix-feather wand at Harry and to yell, “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Nothing happened.

 _Crucio_ , _Diffindo_ , _Reducto_ , _Bombarda_ —no matter what spells Voldemort cast, nothing happened. Voldemort cast spells in Parseltongue—again zilch for the result.

Harry disarmed Voldemort of his wand, did _Lumos_ / _Nox_ to show Voldemort that the wand itself worked fine, then Harry snapped Voldy’s wand in half and tossed the pieces away.

By then the Unspeakables had killed the big snake, and Harry considered Voldemort to be no longer dangerous, so Harry walked up to the Dark Lord. The others followed.

When Muggle-raised Harry and Muggle-born Colin first saw the homunculus of Voldemort, they both spoke the same words: “ _Ugh_ , look at the _zombie baby!_ ”

Voldemort was not zombie-stupid, however—for all the good it did him. He had the mind of an adult, but the frailty of a toddler—and Voldemort had no magic.

Harry walked close to Babymort, held out his hand to the side, and said, “Come to me, Sword of Gryffindor.”

Harry, to be honest, was not sure the trick would work. But it did.

Babymort, eyeing the sword, blustered, “You cannot kill me. I will come back, as I have come back before. Then those you love will suffer and die; the mudblood is first on my list.”

Harry replied, “You’ll come back again, _really?_ Tommy, hasn’t anyone told you?”

In a voice of dread, Babymort asked, “Hasn’t anyone told me _what?_ ”

Harry looked expectantly at the Unspeakables. One Unspeakable told Babymort, “The diary, the cup, the diadem, the locket, the ring and your big snake friend—they’re all _au revoir_.”

Babymort’s face went white.

“Which means,” Harry said, “you no longer have a Plan B. You’re stuck, and without magic, in the body of a fifteen-month-old baby.” Then Harry’s voice turned cold and creepy: “But don’t worry, Tommy Riddle. _Who would want to kill a fifteen-month-old baby?_ ”

Harry waited a few seconds, long enough for Babymort’s face to show an expression of _Oh shit, I’m doomed_ —

Then Harry used both hands to drive the Sword of Gryffindor into the tiny chest.

Harry saw no green wraith come out of the body; Harry heard no supernatural screaming. Instead, Babymort _gasped_ , then went still.

Once Babymort was dead, Harry kept both hands on the killing sword, long enough for Colin to snap several pictures.

Harry’s plan was that when Colin’s photographs were printed in the _Daily Prophet_ , the Dark Lord would not only be _dead_ , he would be _vanquished_.


	10. (Mostly) Happily Ever After

**Thursday, 24th November, 1994, dinnertime**

By dinnertime, Hogwarts’s fake DADA teacher had been identified as (the now twice-dead) Barty Crouch, Jr, and the Weasley twins had found the real Alastor Moody. With the crisis over, and with Harry vindicated, Harry returned to school.

Headmistress McGonagall gave a short speech telling the students that “Harry Potter absolutely did not put his own name into the Goblet of Fire—vanish that thought from your mind. Barty Crouch, Junior put Mr Potter’s name in.” Hermione suggested that Harry demonstrate with _Expecto Patronum_ that he had not lost his magic after forfeiting the task; the Great Hall applauded his corporeal stag-patronus.

Harry made a point to walk up to, and then to shake hands with, Cedric, Fleur and Viktor; then Harry laughingly yelled, “ _I’m officially retired from the Triwizard Tournament!_ ”

Harry then sat down to eat—or tried to. Daphne, Tracey, Millicent, Vincent and Gregory from Slytherin, Susan and Hannah from Hufflepuff, Luna from Ravenclaw, and half of Gryffindor came up to Harry and welcomed him back.

This brouhaha was _nothing_ , of course, compared to the next morning, when the _Daily Prophet_ reported that Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord— _for the second time!_

****

During the First-Task Massacre, Voldemort lost his magic; then the Protean Charm in the Dark Mark sucked both the magic and the life-force out of every Death Eater in Wizarding Britain. Some of the Death Eaters had put a glamour on their left forearms, to hide their Dark Mark—but when they lost their magic, their glamours failed. Every Death Eater, whether he or she was a quill-pusher in the Ministry of Magic or was a strutting Head of House in the Wizengamot, died being revealed as a Death Eater.

After the First-Task Massacre, the Ministry of Magic had _many_ dead bodies to haul away, which showed the Dark Mark on every left forearm.

Cornelius Fudge, so people decided, either was so clueless as to be unaware of the complete Death Eater infiltration of the government, or was so selfish as to allow it, so long as his vaults were filled.

In any case, Cornelius Fudge was out as Minister of Magic, and Cyrus Greengrass was in, two days after the First-Task Massacre.

For some of the Pureblood houses, the First-Task Massacre was a mere inconvenience. Instead of the fathers of Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe and Pansy Parkinson ruling as Lords of their respective Houses, now each heir(ess)’s mother assumed the title of Regent till the heir(ess) turned seventeen.

But for House Malfoy, the Massacre was a disaster: All the Purebloods who could have claimed Lucius Malfoy’s title, because they were closely related to him, died at the same time that Lucius Malfoy died. Eventually Narcissa Malfoy was named Malfoy Regent, and the Malfoy Heiress ring was passed to the fifteen-year-old great-great-granddaughter of Ramses Malfoy: Hermione Jean Dagworth-Granger-Malfoy. Needless to say, the first conversation between Narcissa and Hermione was awkward.

(The first conversation between Narcissa and the Doctors Granger was even more awkward.)

The day after Cyrus Greengrass became Minister of Magic, Sirius Black was put on trial, charged with the offences that he had been sent to Azkaban for (minus the murder of Peter Pettigrew, plus the charge of being an unregistered animagus). Sirius was acquitted on all charges except for the animagus charge, and fined fifty galleons. Sirius Black then was awarded G143 000 in restitution. The “Kiss on sight” order against Sirius had been dropped when Greengrass had become Minister, after persuasion by Amelia Bones.

****

**The next day  
** **Friday, 25th November, 1994**

The day after Harry returned to Hogwarts, he sent Prisoner Dumbledore a letter. Besides a torn-out front page from the _Daily Prophet_ —which included a photograph of Harry, the Sword of Gryffindor and Babymort’s corpse—Harry included a note.

“Headmistress McGonagall, unlike you, did not hoard Tom Riddle’s diary. Instead, she turned the diary over to the Unspeakables on 1st November. By 24th November, the Unspeakables had destroyed all six horcruxes and had led me straight to magicless Tom Riddle. Note that in the newspaper, I, now dubbed ‘The Boy Who Outsmarted Voldemort,’ had much public praise for the Unspeakables, whilst you were not mentioned at all. The reason you were unmentioned is simple: The Unspeakables helped me; _you_ did nothing but hinder me. Also, note that the Dark Lord is dead, but I didn’t need to sacrifice my life for the supposed Greater Good, in order for Tom’s death to happen. I am _so glad_ you are out of my life!”

****

**Six days later  
** **Thursday, 1st December, 1994, afternoon  
** **Hogwarts Library**

Viktor Krum walked up to Hermione and said, “I have request. Please, you help? Is about Yule Ball.”

Hermione was displeased, and she let a frown show. “I’m not going to the Yule Ball. I’m returning home for the Christmas holidays. If I _were_ attending the Yule Ball, it would be with Harry Potter. Sorry.”

Viktor said, “No, not you understand. I’m sorry, not my English is good. You with the Harry Potter—I know, whole school know. But I have the problem. The girls, they look to me, and they see the”—Viktor flexed both biceps, and deepened his voice—“ _famous Viktor Krum_.” Back in his regular voice, he said, “The girls do not see _I_ , the Viktor Krum who plays on my dog. _You_ see the Harry Potter, not ‘The Boy Is Living.’ Please, you help I find the Hogwarts girl for the Yule Ball, who not sees the”—Viktor flexed both biceps again.

Hermione nodded. “Ah, I understand. You don’t want to go to the Yule Ball with a _fangirl_.” Hermione explained the term.

Viktor nodded, looking relieved. “Yes, you understand. No fangirl!”

Hermione thought, _Scratch Ginny Weasley, then_.

Hermione said, “ _Dobby!_ ”

 _Pop_. Harry’s house-elf Dobby appeared, just as eager to serve “Miss Miney” as to serve Harry.

Hermione wrote two identical notes, which she asked Dobby to deliver to Susan Bones and to Daphne Greengrass: “Come to the library as quickly as you can get here. I have someone I want you to meet. —Hermione.”

Both Susan and Daphne arrived at the library within ten minutes. Both girls arrived looking quite curious.

Hermione made the introductions. Then Viktor, Daphne and Susan walked out of the library together.

****

**3½ weeks later  
** **Sunday, 25th December, 1994  
** **At the Granger house**

Two years out of three, on Christmas Day, Dan and Emma Granger hosted their relatives at their home for dinner. This year, Emma let it slip that not only would Hermione be home, but so would Hermione’s much-mentioned, never-met friend Harry.

This year, the dentists’ relatives discovered that the Grangers’ Christmas gathering had two minor mysteries with it.

The first minor mystery was why Dan Granger had done something different this year. He had hired/rented a wooden dance floor for the sitting room, and he had hired a uni student to play compact-disk tracks. Except when Harry and Hermione were eating family dinner, those two teens spent all evening dancing.

The other mystery this year was Hermione’s strange ring. Her last name started with a _G_ , and Harry’s last name started with a _P_ , so why was Hermione wearing a ring with an _M_ on it?

However, one of Hermione’s relatives solved both mysteries—in a surprising way. After dinner, and before the teens resumed their dancing, Hermione’s Granny Connie led the teens, plus Connie’s daughter Emma, into an empty bedroom.

Granny Connie tapped Hermione’s Heiress Malfoy ring. “Since I was little, my father’s name has been Stephen Moffitt. But when he was your age, his name was”—Granny Connie’s voice dropped to a whisper—“Stefanus Malfoy.”

Harry, Hermione and Emma all stared at the old woman in surprise.

Granny Connie said to Hermione, “My grandfather, Ramses Malfoy, attended the same _boarding school in Scotland_ that you two are going to, am I right?”

Hermione nodded, too shocked to speak.

Granny Connie said, “I’ve wondered since I was a tiny child, what having magic is like.”

Harry and Hermione shared a glance. Hermione answered, “Doing magic is wonderful. But many magical _people_ are berks.”

Granny Connie laughed, then she looked at Harry. “Considering everything that’s happened to you in the last two months, I certainly understand why you didn’t want to stay at school for the _Yule Ball_.” Harry and Hermione shared surprised looks again.

Then Granny Connie looked at Hermione. “And if Harry won’t stay for the Yule Ball, no way do _you_ stay.”

“You are so right,” Hermione agreed. “Harry and I recently spent twenty-four days apart, and it almost killed me. I won’t do it again.”

Harry said to Granny Connie, “Ma’am, even though you and I just have met, I wish to invite you to join the Grangers with me at Potter Manor tomorrow, Boxing Day. Not only will it mean you eat a big meal that you didn’t have to cook, not only will it mean you spend more time with your daughter and granddaughter, but you will get to see Hermione do _magic_. She’s really amazing with the spells she knows.”

Hermione smiled at Granny Connie and said, “Also, you can see Harry _fly_ on a broom. Honestly, he’s in a class by himself.”

Harry said, “You’ll also get to meet my godfather, Sirius Black.” Granny Connie’s eyes widened; she recognised the name. Harry continued, “Sirius is a right nutter, but in a _good_ way. His girlfriend Amelia will be there too—Amelia is the head of the magical police—along with Amelia’s niece Susan.”

Hermione said to her grandmother, “Susan will have tales of the Yule Ball to share. Right now she’s at the Ball with _Viktor Krum_.”

****

**Two days later  
** **Tuesday, 27th December, 1994  
** **Potter Manor**

Yesterday, Harry had hosted Hermione, her parents and her grandmother for Boxing Day dinner. That gathering had been intended to be fun and relaxing; but today’s meeting was intended to be serious.

Now sitting around the big table in Potter Manor’s dining room were Hermione Granger, Sirius Black, Narcissa Malfoy, Andromeda Tonks, Ted Tonks and Nymphadora Tonks. Harry was sitting at the head of the table.

Harry said, “There are two things the seven of us need to discuss. The first purpose of this gathering is for Miss Granger to better learn how to be Lady Malfoy. The second purpose is to reconcile Narcissa with Andromeda, who are estranged.”

Five faces looked back at Harry with patient expressions; Narcissa Malfoy’s face showed a plastic smile.

Harry continued, “Each of you knows all the others here, at least a bit, but I’m going to ignore this fact and introduce everyone. First person to be introduced: _me_ , Harry Potter. I’ve been Heir Potter since 31st October, 1981—you all know _that_ story. Then on Halloween of _this_ year, the Goblet of Fire spit out my name, even though I’m only fourteen, and a mob of adults with _important job titles_ all told me that I had to take part in the Triwizard Tournament. What they didn’t realise was that, by insisting I had to take part in a Tournament of adult wizards and witches, they made me become magically an adult. Well, Heir Potter plus emancipation equals Lord Potter.”

Sirius slapped Harry on the back. “So now you’re a grand chap, a Lord Head of House, at age fourteen. _Brilliant_.”

Harry smirked, then said, “On my right is Sirius Black. He’s my godfather, and he’s the person I ask when I have a question about the Pureblood world.” Harry glanced at Narcissa.

Harry continued, “Sirius also is Head of House Black, and all of us except for Hermione and Ted are part of the Black family by blood. Dorea Black was my grandmother. At the moment, I’m Heir Black, but that doesn’t mean much.”

“How can you say this?” Narcissa challenged. “To be the future Lord Black is an important title in our world.”

Harry gave Narcissa a lopsided grin. “Because Sirius here is talking about betrothal to Amelia Bones. I expect a _mob_ of little Blacks running about, in the years to come.”

Narcissa nodded in understanding; Harry continued—

“On my left is Hermione Granger. She’s a Muggle-born. She’s a genius—she’s a sure bet to be Head Girl in our seventh year. She annoys some Purebloods in our year”—Harry glanced at Narcissa—“because she does better in the classroom than _all_ the Purebloods do. Hermione is my girlfriend—I haven’t asked her to marry me yet, but _be sure_ that in a few years, I will.”

Hermione grinned at Harry and said, “When you ask me to marry you, _be sure_ I’ll say yes!”

Harry grinned back at Hermione, then turned his head to again address the entire table. “Hermione is Heiress Dagworth-Granger by lineage, and is also Heiress Malfoy, because everyone who was more directly related to the late Lucius Malfoy also died in the First-Task Massacre.”

Tonks grinned at her Aunt Narcissa and whistled. “I’ll bet lots of Purebloods _went spare_ when they learnt that Harry Potter’s Muggle-born girlfriend is the future Lady Malfoy.”

Hermione answered, “Actually, the Purebloods aren’t too pleased about me being the future Lady Dagworth-Granger either. They’d much prefer that Magic had given _Pansy Parkinson_ the Dagworth-Granger Heiress ring. _C’est la vie_.”

Harry said, “Hermione will become Head of two Houses, twenty-one months from now. Hermione and Narcissa are putting their heads together so that Hermione will learn what she needs to know, in what little time she has.”

Narcissa chose her words carefully: “Whilst teaching Miss Granger, I have come across fewer problems than I expected. The information I present is new to Miss Granger, but she shows a zeal to learn it.”

Harry laughed. “ _That’s_ nothing new!”

Then Harry got serious again. “Okay, finishing up. Narcissa Black Malfoy is a Black daughter, and is the mother of Draco Malfoy and the widow of Lucius Malfoy—both of whom are well known to Hermione and me. Narcissa is Regent Malfoy, till Hermione comes of age.”

Narcissa gave Harry a stately nod. “Lord Potter, I have a question for you, but I shall wait till you’ve finished all the introductions first.”

Harry nodded to Narcissa, then turned to look at Ted Tonks. “Ted Tonks is, like Hermione, a Muggle-born. Ted also is my law-wizard. It was Ted’s advice to _give an Oath_ that I had not put my name in, not merely to say those words aloud. Ted, Hermione and I think that this Oath is the main reason that _Voldemort_ , not I, lost all magic when I forfeited the First Task. Also, Ted advised me to absolutely not participate in _any_ Task. This is why I skived off the Yule Ball two days ago, on the off-chance that Magic would consider attending the Yule Ball to be participating in a Task.”

Now Harry’s eyes went to the woman who was holding hands with Ted Tonks. “Andromeda Black Tonks, I don’t know much about you, except that you’re a Healer at Saint Mungo’s; and you were in Slytherin but you married a Muggle-born. This has to be one of the most _courageous_ things I’ve ever heard of, for a Slytherin.”

Harry caught Andromeda and Narcissa exchanging looks.

Meanwhile, Sirius was saying, “Andi got kicked out of the Black family for marrying Ted. But I fixed that.”

Now grinning Harry looked at his metamorphmagus cousin. “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named— _cough_ —Nymphadora— _cough_ —Tonks is here for no particular reason, but I invited her because she’s one of my favourite people, who also happens to be a cousin of mine.”

Tonks’s face now was just as pink as her hair. “Hermione, do me a favour and kiss him on the cheek, would you please?” Then Tonks snarled, “ _After_ you _slap_ him on the arm for calling me _that name!_ ”

As Hermione dutifully slapped Harry’s arm and kissed his cheek, Harry looked at Narcissa and asked, “You had something you wanted to say to me?”

Narcissa looked nervous as she said, “I ask this not because I wish to start an argument, but so I better can teach Miss Granger: What do you think of Lucius and Draco?”

Tonks whistled. Harry and Hermione shared a look, as Harry rubbed the back of his head.

Harry thought, _Gryffindors charge ahead_. “Lucius and Draco Malfoy were both angry, hateful, snobbish people. Both were bullies. Lucius was a cheater; Draco was a coward. By the time I was Sorted, I’d had two encounters with Draco and I’d decided that I _quite_ disliked him; then I’d watched as the Sorting Hat took _one second_ to decide that Draco was a Slytherin. The Hat wanted to put _me_ in Slytherin, but because of Draco, I told the Hat, ‘Not Slytherin, not Slytherin!’ Thankfully, the Hat then put me in the same House as Hermione.”

Tonks whistled again. “Wow, I knew Cousin Draco was a _wanker_. But you _changed your Sorting_ because of him?”

“I did.” Then Harry’s eyes bored into Narcissa’s. “But this idea that cowardly Draco and cheating Lucius are somehow better people than Hermione in _any_ way, just because their family was magical for however-many generations, whilst Hermione is the first magical in her family in four generations? The very idea is _mad_ , _mad_ , _mad_. My big problem with the wizarding world is that so many of you believe this _ridiculous_ idea.”

Narcissa went statue-still for ten seconds. Then she said stiffly, “I see. Thank you for answering honestly.”

Narcissa took a deep, calming breath and looked at Ted Tonks. “Lord Potter said, minutes ago, that we are gathered here to educate Miss Granger how better to be Lady Malfoy; and to reconcile my sister and me. Now, I have two questions for you, Mr Tonks, and I believe my asking you these questions, and your answering, will accomplish both purposes—

“What is it like to be a Muggle-born? How is your life different than being a Black daughter?”

****

**Not quite two months later  
** **Thursday, 24th February, 1995  
** **The Second Task**

Harry and Hermione sat in the stands and watched the three Champions carry out the Task. Also watching, whilst sitting in the cold wind: Cho Chang, Susan Bones and Fleur Delacour’s eight-year-old sister Gabrielle.

The three Champions were charged with each “rescuing” a mannequin that looked just like someone they loved—or at least, like someone with whom they had gone to the Yule Ball.

Fleur was injured by grindylows, and so was not able to “rescue” her sister’s mannequin. But since Gabrielle was never in danger, Fleur was merely _annoyed_ by her failure, not _frantic_.

Harry, in the Gryffindor spectator stands, leant over and murmured to Hermione, “I wonder if it would have been _mannequins_ that the Champions had to rescue, if Dumbledore still were headmaster.”

****

**Four months later  
** **Friday, 24th June, 1995  
** **The Third Task**

None of the three Champions were Imperiused. None of the three Champions needed to fire red sparks as an emergency signal. Cedric Diggory was not first to the Cup (that honour went to Viktor Krum), but Cedric did not die hearing the words “Kill the spare” either.

****

**Fifteen days later  
** **Saturday, 8th July, 1995, 1 p.m.  
** **One week after end-of-term for Harry, Hermione and Susan**

Sirius Black married Amelia Bones in the Ministry of Magic’s Large Meeting Room.

The wedding invitations that had been sent out, showed the “Jolly Roger” reversed: a grinning _black_ skull above crossed _black_ femurs, on a white background; the text underneath said “THE BLACK-BONES WEDDING.”

After Sirius and Amelia spoke their wedding vows, Harry, Hermione, Remus and Susan jointly conjured a huge, floating, fireworks-shooting sign that said “Kiss on sight.”

****

**2½ months later  
** **Monday, 25th September, 1995, around midnight  
** **In a small flat in Surrey Public Flats Complex 17**

Dudley woke up from a nightmare—a nightmare about his cousin Harry.

In the dream, Dudley aged fifteen, Piers, and the rest of Dudley’s old gang chased fifteen-year-old Harry into the park near Dudley’s house. The gang’s intention was to beat up Harry. But then Harry turned to face the bigger boys. Dream-Harry didn’t look _scared_ , he didn’t look _defiant_ —instead, Harry wore a _cruel smile_.

Harry pulled out his wand—Piers made a mocking comment about “fighting with a chopstick”—and pointed his wand to the side. _Pop_. A big, transparent-purple box appeared on the grass; then _pop!_ —teenage boys appeared inside the box. These arriving teen boys were holding wands like Harry’s, and they were dressed like the long-bearded headmaster at Harry’s school. Now the purple box disappeared. Dudley and his friends already were outnumbered, by Harry and the wizard-boys, but then the witches showed up. Teenage girls who all wore pointy hats, flew into the park on straw broomsticks, and these girls landed between the wizard-boys and Harry.

Harry still was smiling cruelly and still was holding his wand. “Friends,” he said to the wizard-boys and to the witches, “this is my cousin and his mates. They like to hurt people who can’t hurt them back.”

A teen witch with blue hair and bright-purple eyes (and brilliant boobies) _cackled_ , whilst she floated on her broomstick. Looking at Dudley, she said, “Isn’t this amazing. I _also_ like to hurt people who can’t hurt me back.”

So saying, the witch thrust her free hand (the hand that wasn’t gripping her broomstick) at Dudley. Suddenly Dudley felt like he was being punched all over his body by dozens of invisible fists.

“Any limits on what we do?” a wizard-boy asked Harry.

Harry’s cruel smile got bigger. “The other boys deserve pain”—suddenly Piers and the rest of Dudley’s gang were screaming. “But my fat whale of a cousin deserves to _die_.”

Then all the wizard-boys pointed their wands at Dudley, whilst all the witches each thrust out a hand towards Dudley. “ _Die!_ ” they all yelled.

That’s when Dudley woke up, his heart racing.

****

Dudley now was a student at Stonewall High. His first day there, bigger kids had shoved his head in a toilet. The bullying by bigger boys continued after the first day; half the students at Stonewall now called Dudley “Fat Boy.” Stonewall’s teachers—who all looked at Dudley with disgust—did nothing to stop Dudley’s pain and shaming. A teacher at Stonewall hinted that the teachers at Smeltings were relieved that Dudley was gone.

At Stonewall, Dudley had tried to act like a bully himself, but this had not worked out. When a swotty boy in one of Dudley’s classes had taunted him—“You’re really a _pillock_ sort, aren’t you, Fat Boy?”—Dudley had moved up close to the thinner boy and had made threats. But instead of being scared of Dudley, the other boy had laughed in Dudley’s face. “ _Go ahead_ , Fat Boy, _hit_ me. Then you’ll join your dad in _prison!_ ”

Here was another reason that in Stonewall, life for Dudley was bugger-all. At Smeltings, everyone had known that Dudley was the boy whose father played golf with the Smeltings headmaster; at Stonewall, Dudley was known as the boy whose father had been sent to prison for twenty years, for £156 000 in tax crimes.

Besides sending Dudley’s dad to prison, the Crown had seized _everything_ the Dursleys owned—the car, the house on Privet Drive and the money in savings. Now Mum worked as an assistant in a florist shop; the only way she could make ends meet was because now mother and son lived in a council flat (the neighbours were _noisy_ ).

But as bad as things now were for Dudley and his mum, at least they were not much worse. Because Vernon Dursley had “taken his medicine,” Harry had kept his promise: None of the Dursleys would go to the magical prison and be exposed to Dementors, every minute of every day. Dudley’s relief at knowing this was _huge_. Azkaban, the magical prison, sounded to Dudley like a real-life horror that was _much_ worse than anything he had ever seen in a film at the cinema.

****

**Almost three years later  
** **Thursday, 2nd July 1998  
** **In a tunnel of the iron mine beneath Gringotts UK**

Harry never used his power to order Dumbledore’s execution; Harry never sent Gringotts a message to “Axe the wanker’s neck.”

But what a goblin-steel axe did not do, starvation and exhaustion achieved. Skeleton-thin Dumbledore died in a tunnel of the iron mine, with a miner’s pick in his hands and a cold-torch sticky-charmed to his forehead. The goblins immediately vanished Dumbledore’s corpse.

Gringotts did not notify Hogwarts or the _Daily Prophet_ of Albus Dumbledore’s passing. For Aberforth Dumbledore, Gringotts added a brief written message to his monthly account statement.

****

**Nine days later  
** **Saturday, 11th July 1998**

About two weeks after Harry, Hermione and their year-mates sat their NEWTs and finished their seventh year, Harry and Hermione got married—twice.

The first wedding was at Hogwarts, where many weddings had taken place in the past thousand years; but _nobody_ had ever been married exactly where seventeen-year-old Harry and eighteen-year-old Hermione held their wedding: in a girl’s lavatory.

Marrying in a girl’s loo at Hogwarts? The Purebloods (those who had survived the First-Task Massacre) were scandalised.

Surprisingly, Dowager Narcissa Malfoy defended Lady Hermione Dagworth-Granger-Malfoy’s unusual choice of a wedding location. “Harry and Hermione, plus the cast-out Weasley boy, only two months into their first year, battled _and defeated_ a mountain troll in the same bathroom they will be wedded in. Harry and Hermione weren’t friends before the troll, but they were friends afterwards. _Anyone_ can get married in the Great Hall, or in a House common room; but for those two, the troll bathroom actually is a more romantic place.”

All three Triwizard Tournament Champions were invited to the wedding, and all three Champions attended.

The nonmagical wedding was held at Saint George Church of England in Crawley. A cousin of Hermione’s was the Maid of Honour; Daphne, Lavender, Luna, Parvati and Susan were bridesmaids.

Alas, Rigel Black, the two-year-old son of Sirius and Amelia, was too young to be the ring bearer.

At the wedding breakfast (wedding reception) in the Grangers’ back garden, a snowy owl swooped down to land on the groom’s shoulder, and used its beak to pluck a water beetle out of the bride’s hair. Two quick bites and the water beetle was history; then the snowy owl flew away. All the wedding guests talked about the snowy owl; no person—including Harry and Hermione—asked what a water beetle was doing in the bride’s hair.

A week later, the _Daily Prophet_ reported that Rita Skeeter was missing, presumed dead.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione spent their honeymoon at the “Dumbledore holiday house” in Ibiza. The first two days that the bride and groom were in the house, the Mediterranean weather outside was nearly nonstop rain—the newlyweds never noticed.

**The End**


End file.
